Page 22 of Only You and Me

Trina shakes her head subtly. “No, it hasn’t changed. I just didn’t think you’d remember, though.”

We both dig into our meals and eat in silence for several minutes, and I get lost in thought as I eat. Trina thinks I’m a playboy—which I was before her—and she’s never really grasped what she meant to me. Hell, what she still means to me. I may have been young, but I loved her to the core of my soul. That she took a chance on me all those years ago was a miracle. That I fucked it up is my greatest regret. One I’ll likely never get over.

“Ben, can I ask you something?”

I look up into Trina’s striking eyes to find them fixed on me, her biting on a corner of her lower lip.

“Sure. Of course.” I pick up my beer to take a sip and brace myself for what she might say.

“Is it true you’ve only had sex with three people in the last nine and a half years?” She asks, her tone full of incredulous doubt.

I cough and sputter on the drink of beer I was in the middle of taking, not having expected her to ask that. After several long seconds, I’ve finally got my windpipe clear and can speak again. Right when I’m about to open my mouth to answer, our server approaches and asks if she can get us anything else.

“Can we have two more double shots of Patron Silver, a whiskey neat, and”—I glance at Trina’s near empty wine glass—“another glass of wine if she wants it.” I’m buzzed, but I’m going to need a little more liquid courage if we’re revisiting this conversation.

“Yes, please.” Trina smiles up at our server. When the girl walks away, Trina looks at me. “I’m hoping one of those shots is for me.”

“Yes.”

Trina narrows her eyes at me and tilts her head. “Yes, what? Yes, one shot is for me or yes, it’s true about…” Her voice trails off.

“Both. Yes, to both.”

Fuck, this is awkward. I should never have told her that detail at the Valentine’s Day fundraiser. I stare down at my food and focus on it as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“And the other thing?” she asks. “Is that true, too?”

“Huh? What other th?—”

“The no kissing thing,” she blurts out. “Is that also true?”

Shit, I’m not sure I can have this conversation again. Or if it’s even appropriate.

“I’m not sure Joe would want us having this discussion,” I answer, trying to find an out.

Her eyebrows move so close together they practically touch, and she tilts her head and purses her lips. Speaking of kissing… “Joe who?”

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. What the hell game is she playing at? “Joe, your boyfriend from the Valentine’s Day fundraiser.”

Trina watches me with a blank expression on her face for a moment before her eyes brighten and her mouth turns up into a delighted grin. She’s chuckling when our server brings our drinks over, and she smiles at the girl, then thanks her.

I try to wait patiently while she works out her amusement at my expense, but I can’t take it anymore. “What’s so funny?” Irritation radiates from my voice, and I assume my body as well.

Trina looks at me. “Joe’s not my boyfriend, Benjamin.”

“Okay. Well, whatever you kids are calling it these days. Still, I don’t think he’d appreciate us talking about this.” I can’t keep the sarcasm and jealousy from my voice, and I hate it. I lean back toward the table again, rest my elbows against its top, and clasp my hands loosely together.

Trina matches my posture but taps the tips of her index fingers together. “Joe is the owner of the construction company that renovated the old apartment complex near the station. He’s the one who fired the kid you arrested at the bar in late January. And he was there to support the cause and make sure the kid—Guy—hadn’t given me any more problems before he and his crew left town for their next gig. He’s not my boyfriend.”

Relief floods me, though I don’t know why since it changes nothing between us. “Oh… I thought he was your date.”

“Nope. It was the second time I met him. So, answer my question since Joe wouldn’t give a shit about us having this conversation.”

I take a drink of my whiskey. “You answer one for me first.”

She homes her eyes in on mine. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

I wasn’t expecting her to be so agreeable.

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