Page 102 of Foreplay on Words

“Big Bang? Damn, should I be worried? Have you been holding back?” She giggled as she sat at a table near the back and picked up her menu, hiding behind it.

I pushed it down with my finger and rolled my eyes at her. “No, smartass. My nickname was Raj because I never talked to girls.” Except alcohol didn’t magically make me talkative as it did with Raj. “I even stopped going to parties because the girls called me the ‘creepy hot guy.’”

“At least they thought you were hot...” Chase shrugged her shoulders, and I rolled my eyes, flicking her menu as I released it.

“Do you two know what you want?” the waitress interrupted, looking expectantly at Chase. I could see what she meant by hipster. The waitress had gray-dyed hair pulled up into some kind of twist and a bandana tied over it. Her denim overalls and plaid shirt reminded me of what you’d see in nineties music videos.

“I’ll take the fried rice.”

The waitress looked over at me after jotting Chase’s order and winked. “And you, sugar?”

My eyes widened, and I stuttered out my answer as Chase snickered at me. “Uh...breakfast burger?”

“See. Women can’t help themselves around you,” Chase teased as she grabbed my hand across the table.

“Well, you don’t need to be worried. You’re the only woman I seem to be able to articulate a coherent sentence around.”

A college-aged guy dropped off our food a few minutes later, and we dug in.

“Oh, my guh... this sooo goo––” I mumbled through bites of the amazingly flavorful sandwich.

“I’m assuming that was English?” she smiled indulgently.

I swallowed and stuck my tongue out at her. “You’re right. This place is good.”

“Of course, it is—I’m always right...” She trailed off as her eyes widened.

“Oh shit! Incoming.” Chase put her hand next to her face and looked toward the wall. I turned toward the door and saw a statuesque brunette determinedly approaching our table.

“Who is that?” I asked as I leaned across the table toward her.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered as the woman stopped beside our table. “Kristine! How are you?”

“Chase...” the woman sighed her name in a way that made me feel chastised. “So, you are alive. I was beginning to wonder.”

“Yup, still here,” Chase nodded. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking up an order for dickhead. He claimed he had a craving, and his intern was ‘busy,’” she said in a mocking voice doing air quotes.

“Is actually let him send you on an errand?”

“Those two are being weird. She’s super distracted lately, and, to be completely frank, she’s pissed off at you.”

“Crap.” Chase cringed as she looked at me.

“So, are you the reason that Chase isn’t meeting her deadlines?” the intimidating woman asked, aiming an arched eyebrow at me.

“Kristine, be nice,” Chase warned.

“It was just a question, Chase. He’s a big boy. He can answer questions.”

“Uh...” Shit. She was staring at me. I was afraid of this girl. She couldn’t have been older than her early twenties, but she was obviously skilled at intimidating men.

“Okay, so maybe he can’t.” She squinted at me and gave me a look. “I know you.”

I shook my head and tried to make my mouth move. “I... uh. I’ve never met you.”

“No—your face is familiar. Where do I know you from?”

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