Page 36 of Romancing the Rude Guy

She rolls her eyes, but I can see by the way her lips are quivering that she’s fighting a smile. I’d call myself a dirty old man, but our age difference has never been a huge deal, so I don’t want to be constantly pointing it out to her and make it an issue.

Our sandwiches come and I have to admit, Alice was correct again. They are good.

We eat our lunch and talk about a few work things, including an upcoming retirement party for one of her coworkers.

A man walks by and then stops and pivots around to face our table. “Alice?” he says, with a wide grin on his face that I don’t like one bit.

Her blue eyes travel up to his face and she smiles, before wiggling her way across the seat and standing up to give him a hug.

I sit there and silently fume as I watch this guy put his hands with a little too much familiarity around her and hug her tight.

She turns to me, and I can’t help noticing the way the guy keeps a possessive hand on her arm.

“Marcus, this is Troy. Troy, this is Marcus.”

Troy nods and holds out his hand, just barely out of my reach, making me lean across and brace myself on the table as I shake his hand.

Troy’s bright blue eyes roll as he grins at Alice. “You gotta teach this guy some manners.”

She laughs and shakes her head, sending her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. “Marcus is disabled, so he can’t get up to shake your hand. He’s not being rude at all.”

It hits me like a punch in the gut. I’m not rude, I’m disabled. Is this how she excuses my less than stellar behavior?

Troy’s expression morphs, and he crouches down until he’s eye level with me. “It was very nice to meet you, Marcus,” he says slowly, putting emphasis on each word. “Enjoy your lunch, okay, buddy?”

I grit my teeth as he pats my arm.

Rising to his feet, he turns back to Alice. “Kevin and Anders are having a party next weekend. You should come. We haven’t seen you in ages, Alice.”

Her gaze darts to me and she frowns. “Oh, I don’t know if we can make it.”

“Come on, Richard isn’t going to be there.” Troy glances at me briefly and grimaces. “But they have loads of stairs, so I don’t think your friend would be that comfortable.”

My eyes bounce between the two of them and a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach widens and I feel like I’m standing at the edge, about to fall in at any moment.

“Then we won’t be coming,” Alice says and sits down, giving me a sweet smile.

That smile usually eases my mind, but not today.

Troy stares down at Alice for a moment and then straightens up to his well over six-foot height. “Well, another time then. Nice seeing you again, Alice.” He tosses a dark glare my way and stalks off.

That guy was a prick, but someone like him is who Alice deserves. A strong and healthy man. She shouldn’t miss out on things or be limited because of him.

And that’s what I’d be. Nothing but a dead weight, holding her back from her friends, parties, and just about anything that a wheelchair can’t access.

“Nice guy,” I mutter.

“He’s one of Richard’s friends,” she says slowly.

I stare blankly at her and finally ask, “Who the hell is Richard?”

Bright red fills her face, and she bites down on her lower lip before whispering, “My ex-fiancé.”

Nodding, I grab my water and finish it in one long gulp. The remainder of my sandwich, I leave. My appetite is gone.

It takes the waitress longer than I like to locate my wheelchair, which adds to my anxiousness, and when I go to transfer myself into it, my fist slips on the vinyl bench and my shoulder bangs painfully into the table.

Alice gasps and is around the table in a flash. “Marcus, are you okay?”

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