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As Gray stared at my hand connected with Christian’s, he looked bloodthirsty.
Good.
“So,” Sarah said, far more casually than I had expected, “how did you two get together?”
Christian, ever the champ, chimed in. “We were working the truck one day. It was really hot out.” Christian tapped my nose with his index finger. “He took his shirt off and it was lust at first sight. Right, babe?”
“Babe?”Gray half-said, half-growled.
“So much lust,” I said with a wink. “I wanted to take him right then and there.”
“Funny,” Gray said. “I thought he looked a little repulsed when I walked onto the loading dock. Almost like he might be sick at any moment.”
Christian laughed. “Lovesick, maybe.”
I glared at Gray. “You hear that? Lovesick.” I turned to Sarah. “After that, Gray yelled at me in the break room. When Christian found me, he asked me why someone so beautiful was doing something as ugly as crying. He said if I gave him the chance, I’d never have to cry again.” I glanced back at Christian, and because he was a damn good kisser, I smashed our lips together. His tongue entered my mouth forcefully. When he pulled away, his eyes were wide with revelation. I had no idea what had been revealed to him, and I didn’t particularly care to ask.
“Kent?” Christian said.
“What?” I whispered, my gaze fixed on Gray as his eyes bulged out of his head.
“How did you know you were g—”
Before he could ask whatever he was wanting to ask, the waitress returned with a growl in her voice, and a glare directed at me.
“Sushi’s up.” She dropped a plate on the table and crossed her arms against her chest, still holding a package of red and white meat in her hand.
I stared down at the abysmal, empty ‘sushi’ platter, if you could call it that. The tray was simply a commemorative plate with a chipped and faded image of Flounder from Little Mermaid. I resisted every urge inside of me demanding I belt out an off-key rendition of “Kiss the Girl” directly into Gray’s face.
Sarah was smiling at the waitress with the same doe-eyed, goofy-ass grin she gave Gray every chance she got. I’d seen it so many times I could have sketched it from memory.
“Hi there,” she said to the waitress, waving cheerfully. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
The waitress arched an eyebrow at her, and then the corner of her lip tugged upward. Smiles had no business residing on her face. It was like someone had taken a Mrs. Potato Head doll and wedged a banana where her lips should have been. The nameless waitress’ grin was wide, and it filled me with nothing but pure terror. An antichrist come to bring about the end times.
“Don’t think so. I think I’d remember meeting you,” she said, eyeing Sarah up and down before pointing at the tray. “Eat up. Made that dish special.” She turned and glared at me. “Just don’t eat the greenery. I fixed that up specifically for Curly Sue over there.”
There, on the platter, was a half-eaten bag of off-brand, imitation crab meat. There was a single serving cup of minute rice, three leaves of iceberg lettuce that were brown around the edges, and a single dollop of spit sitting in the center of each, meant for me. In lieu of wasabi, one single, sad little packet of Louisiana Hot Sauce sat at the side.
“Everything about this place is stupid, and I’ll be damned if you think I’m going to—”
The waitress opened the bag of imitation crab meat and held it over the table, letting it slither out of the bag and onto the plate. “Eat that,” she muttered under her breath as she walked away.
“I know what I want to eat, babe,” Christian said, glancing down at my crotch.
I choked on my Diet Coke, hacking up splishes and splashes all over the table.
“Not much of a meal, from what I hear,” Gray said, stabbing a slice of crab with his plastic spork. He lifted it in front of his face and stared at it like the fish byproduct offended his very soul.
“Felt pretty big in my truck earlier,” Christian said.
“You know,” Gray said, even though no one asked him for his input, “I don’t think I ever told you about the first time Sarah and I went out.”
I looked up, trying my best not to vomit as Sarah ripped a chunk ofsushiaway from the half-eaten block and dipped it in the cup of minute rice.
“That’s disgusting. There’s no telling whose hands had been in that bag.” I turned toward Christian. “I know whose hands are going to be in my bag later, though.” I leaned forward, nipping his chin with my teeth.
Christian whimpered.
