Page 22 of Sinners' Appetite
“As your best friend—” she starts to say before I cut her off.
“As my best friend, you should keep your mouth shut and let me make my own decisions about who’s cock I’m gonna hop on.”
“Watch the attitude or I’ll cancel our movie nights, babe,” she smirks.
“You wouldn’t.” I laugh, watching her aggressively cut into the cantaloupe.
“You clearly don’t know me.”
“Anyway, I have to go get ready,” I announce as I stand up to leave.
“You better be careful. Like I said, I don’t care for him. He’s quiet for a reason. The quiet ones are usually serial killers or something,” she warns, glancing up at me with a profound look in her eyes.
I chuckle and roll my eyes. “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”
“Sure you can,” she says, stabbing into another part of the fruit.
“Love ya!” I smile as I head to the front door to leave.
“I’ll keep my phone close by, in case you need me to come get you.”
Without responding, I slip my shoes on and head out the door.
I finish straightening my hair and glance at the time on my phone. Eight-twenty-eight. He’ll be here in a couple of minutes.
Now that I’ve had time to stew on what Sammi said, I can’t help but wonder if she’s right. He is unusually quiet. Not around me, but around other people. I noticed it several times when he would tag alongside my ex and I to places. It never really bothered me—until now.
As the thoughts start to circle around me, I hear my doorbell ring. I sit for a few moments, attempting to settle my discomfort. When I finally make it to the front door and open it, he’sstanding there with a huge bouquet of black and red roses. My absolute favorite.
“These are for you,” he says, handing them to me.
“They’re stunning!” I excitedly squeal. “Come in, I’ll find a vase for them.”
Once I finally find the only vase I own, I fill it with water and carefully place the flowers inside, not bothering to cut them just yet.
“Should we get going now?” I ask, making my way to the door, slipping my shoes on quickly as I grab my keys and wallet from the entryway table.
We both head out and hop into his car, taking off toward the restaurant we have reservations at for our first “date”.
As soon as we get there, he parks the car and gestures for me to stay seated while he walks around the car to my door, opening it for me.
“You’re such a gentleman.” I smile as I get out, and he returns it.
“I try.”
Luckily, the restaurant isn’t overly busy, so we manage to snag a somewhat private spot toward the back of the establishment. Once we’re seated, the waitress walks over to hand us each a menu. Without even looking, Justin recites what he wants to order then hands the menu back to the waitress.
Does he come here often?
I scan over the menu and after a few seconds, I find something that I know I’ll like. “I’ll have the chicken caesar salad, please,” I say.
“That’s it?” Justin asks in a seemingly annoyed tone.
“Yes. I don’t have a very big appetite,” I explain.
He’s being so weird.
He then looks to the waitress with a wide smirk. “Throw a steak on the plate too. She needs to eat something of substance.”
