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Chapter Seventeen
Ashton
The forty-five-minute ride to Olive Garden was long and silent. I could feel O’Shea’s eyes on me from time to time as I drove. My hands tightened on the wheel in frustration. When he’d said his family was coming to visit, neither of us expected his bitchy, psychotic ex to tag along.
“I swear I didn’t know she was coming,” he finally said.
“I’m sure.”
"You sure about that? Because you seem a bit off.”
"Yep."
"Are you mad at me?"
"Why would I be?"
"I don't know. Maybe because my ex is being a complete ass."
“Your ex has nothing to do with me. As I said, it's not like we're dating. You're a free man to do whatever you want." The words hurt as they left my mouth, reminding me that yes, we weren’t dating and there was a strong possibility that he’d leave with them now that his ex was pregnant.
He sighed. “Look, I’m sorry this is happening. I’ll talk to Kayla—”
“It’s fine. Congrats on your baby, by the way. Maybe you two should work it out for the sake of your child," I stated bitterly.
"What?" he asked. I sighed and shook my head. He probably thought I was being irrational to be upset over something he had no control over, and maybe I was. But this situation didn’t make me happy. I wasn’t too sure how much I could take her glaring at me or calling me names, but I knew that my patience meter was reaching its breaking point.
“I’m almost certain she isn’t pregnant,” he said.
“What makes you so sure? I don’t think she’d be making the scene she is if she weren’t,” I snapped.
He sighed deeply. “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Ashton. Like I said, I didn’t know she was coming.”
I sighed and ran a frustrated hand through my hair. “You don’t have to say anything. Just forget it.” It wasn’t his fault that Kayla was a bitch, nor was it his fault that I was in love with him and too much of a coward to tell him that.
He shook my head and looked out the window. This whole day was already going to shit and with Kayla purposely fucking with me, I could sense that it was only going to go downhill from there.
We finally pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. I got out of the car without a word, damn near slamming the door behind me. O’Shea reluctantly came over to join me on the sidewalk.
"Man, I'm starving!" his mom, Michelle, said as we walked through the door. The hostess behind the podium smiled at us as we entered.
"Welcome to Olive Garden! How many in your party?" she asked.
Michelle looked around and counted everyone. "Six."
The woman checked something on the tablet in front of her. "It's about a ten-minute wait for a table. Is that okay?"
"That's fine," she responded with a nod. The woman gave us a buzzer before she turned her attention to the couple who'd came in behind us.
"I'm going to run to the bathroom really quick," I said and walked away, moving through a couple of families before finally pushing into the bathroom. Releasing a long breath, I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Please let me survive this lunch without wanting to stab myself with a fork.
The door opened again, but I didn’t pay much attention to it until I saw Kayla’s reflection in the mirror.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” she said, leaning against the wall. Not taking my eyes off the mirror, I cocked my head to the side.
“And what would that be?”
“You’re trying to make me jealous.”
