Page 15 of Overtime

Is that supposed to be code for something?

“I’m not kidding. That’s enough.”

Everyone quiets because Rob’s voice takes on a hard edge.

Even I peek from behind my hands. He’s always so soft-spoken and quiet. I’ve never heard him sound so commanding before. And it works. They all shut up immediately.

How unfair is it that this rarely seen side of him completely turns me on?

Thank God the waitress chooses this moment to finally appear to take our food orders.

The rest of the meal goes by with relatively little incident. A few times “Chickenshit” is thrown around, but Rob just ignores it. He doesn’t say another word to me the entire meal. I guess that’s fair. I embarrassed the crap out of him. Being the gentleman he is, he still shut down the horrifying topic of the mystery roses prank being pulled on me.

He’s so stupidly perfect.

I’m stuffed and wondering who’s going to take me home when the waitress reappears.

“How do you want me to split the checks?”

Naturally, all the guys offer to pay for their girlfriends. I’m just about to speak up when Rob beats me to the punch.

“I’ve got hers.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that.”

“You didn’t even want to come tonight. It’s the least I can do.”

My face heats and words escape me, so I just nod.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” he asks.

Blood rushes in my ears as my heart thuds in my chest and nausea overwhelms my stomach. It has nothing to do with all the greasy food I’ve just consumed.

“Oh, no. That’s okay. I can just catch a ride with Mike.”

He nods but says nothing else. His expression gives nothing away.

Why would he even want to drive me home after the way I embarrassed him in front of all his friends? I guess he feels obliged since he first offered. He’s such a nice guy. Ugh, I hate myself and my stupid mouth and my stupid brain.

“I’m really sorry about what I assumed before…about…you know.”

He sighs and fiddles with his empty plate, piling his used silverware and napkin on top. It’s as if he’s trying to make as little work as possible for the waitress.

He’s so cute…and thoughtful.

“That’s okay,” he mumbles. “I guess I did that to myself.”

I lower my voice and lean closer to him to make sure no one else at the table will overhear our conversation. “It really is okay if you are. I understand why you might not want anyone to know. I’ll be your friend either way. I won’t judge you.”

When he lifts his gaze to me, we’re so close that his warm breath fans across my face. Even seated, he’s so much taller than I am that I have to crane my neck to maintain eye contact. He makes me feel supremely small, a realization which causes me to swallow a ball of fear.

He studies me for a beat before responding in an equally soft whisper. “Thank you. But I’m really not gay. I’m sorry if that disappoints you.”

It’s all I can do not to laugh and attract attention.

My heart soars, and my words come out all breathy. “Why would that disappoint me?”

He shrugs, the movement rippling into my own body. “I dunno. You just…seemed so sure, I guess.”

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