Page 52 of The One I Hate
“Can you answer one? I’d really like to know the orgasm one. Or the where you went one. But I’m not picky.”
I look over to Simon, and I’m angry at myself the second I turn my head.
Besides the grin, which has never been more pompous, I lock eyes with him, and that’s my downfall.
Those fucking eyes. They are the clearest blue I’ve ever seen. I don’t even know how to describe them. I just know that’s his secret weapon. They get me every fucking time. Whether it wasfifteen years ago, a month ago, or right now, I’m a goner when I look into sparkling blues.
“Fine,” I groan, hoping then he’ll leave me alone. “I’ll answer one.”
He celebrates with a fist pump, but I quickly cut him off. “But I get to pick the question. And it’s not about orgasms.”
He sighs like a toddler. “Fine.”
“You’ll find this out soon enough—” I lower my voice to make sure that stray ears don’t pick up on this. “But I’m opening a restaurant here. Mona is retiring, and this space is going to be mine.”
“What!” Simon yells, drawing a few eyeballs our way. Though they leave just as quickly, which I’m guessing means this town is used to Simon’s antics. “You’re taking over Mona’s? This is great! Can this be my permanent seat? I want to come in every day. Be a regular. Have my name yelled and cheered when I walk through the door. I’ll be your Norm!”
“Absolutely not,” I say. “Actually, if you could never come in here, I’d appreciate that.”
“You can’t do that,” he says, indignant. “I have rights.”
“Not here you don’t. No shirt. No shoes. No Simon.”
He furrows his brow. “I don’t think that’s how it goes.”
“That’s how it goes here.”
“I can’t believe you’d do that, Bug,” he says, pretending to be hurt. “After all we’ve been through. And it’s been so much…”
“Exactly,” I say, my eyes narrowing. “Afterallwe’ve been through.”
We stare at each other for more than a few seconds, anger radiating off the both of us. Mine is more visceral, though. I can feel my face turning the color of my fading red-dyed hair.
How dare he think that he can be so casual about how things ended. And how dare he be the one to ask me where I wentfifteen years ago. If there’s anyone who has to come up with answers for how things ended, it’s him.
As for the walking out part, I’ll take that. But the other stuff is what I’m more concerned about.
“Here you go, Simon,” Mona says, breaking our stares. “Everything okay here?”
Neither of us say anything as we slowly lean away from each other. We might not be trying to shoot lasers into each other, but that doesn’t mean the tension isn’t still thick. I don’t know if there’s a knife in this restaurant that can cut through it.
“Thanks, Mona,” he says, giving her a wink. “I’ll let you two talk.”
“Take care, Simon,” Mona says as he slides what looks like way too much money toward her.
“See you around, Bug. Every day. Maybe sometimes twice a day. You know I can come multiple times.”
Asshole.
“Fuck you, Simon.”
“Again? Here? Bug, what do you take me for?”
I shake my head in frustration. “I hate you.”
He smiles and leans in closer. “This is going to be great. Just like old times. Can’t wait.”
“I hope you choke on your french toast.”
