Only . . . it’s not Glenn.
Brown eyes are staring back at me and I suddenly want to push Theodore’s hands off of me and crawl across the table.
Fuck you, fate. Fuck you to hell.
A slow smile spreads across Ben’s face as he returns his attention to Theodore. “Sorry to interrupt,” Ben says, “but I’m going from table to table, asking couples a few questions for a paper I’m working on for grad school. Do you mind if I ask you two a few?”
Theodore relaxes once he realizes Ben isn’t here to mark his territory. Or so he thinks. “Yeah, sure,” Theodore says. He reaches across the table to shake his hand. “I’m Theodore, this is Fallon,” he says, introducing me to the only man who has ever been inside me.
“Nice to meet you, Fallon,” Ben says, clasping my hand with both of his. He makes a quick brush of his thumbs over my wrist, and the contact of his skin on mine is scorching. When he releases my hand, I look down at my wrist, sure it left a mark.
“I’m Ben.”
I raise what I’m hoping comes off as an uninterested, lazy eyebrow. What in the world is he doing here?
Ben’s gaze slides from my eyes to my mouth, but then he focuses on Theodore. “So how long have you lived in Los Angeles, Theodore?”
So many things to process in my alcohol-riddled mind right now.
Ben is here.
Here.
And he’s probing my date for information.
“Most of my life. Going on twenty years, I guess.”
I glance at Theodore. “I thought you grew up in Nantucket.”
He shifts in his seat and laughs, squeezing my hand that’s resting on top of the table. “I was born there. Wasn’t raised there. We moved here when I was four.” He turns his attention back to Ben, and dammit, Amber wins again.
“So,” Ben says, pointing a finger back and forth between Theodore and me. “You two dating?”
Theodore puts his arm around me and pulls me against him. “Working on it,” he says, smiling down at me. But then he looks back at Ben. “These are oddly personal questions. What kind of paper are you writing?”
Ben pops his neck with his hand. “I’m studying the probability of soul mates.”
Theodore chuckles. “Soul mates? That’s graduate-level work? God help us.”
Ben raises an eyebrow. “You don’t believe in soul mates?”
Theodore wraps his arm around me and leans back in his seat. “Are you saying you do? Have you met your soul mate?” Theodore glances around the room half-jokingly. “Is she here with you tonight? What’s her name? Cinderella?”
My eyes slowly make the journey to Ben’s. I’m not sure I want to hear her name yet. He’s eyeing me hard, trading glances with the fingers that are sliding up and down my arm.
“She’s not here with me,” Ben says. “In fact, I was actually stood up by her today. Waited for over four hours but she never showed.”
His words are like icicles. Beautiful and sharp as a knife. I swallow the lump in my throat.
He actually showed up? Even after I told him last year I wasn’t coming? His words are doing too many things to me right now, and it feels all wrong since I’m sidled up next to a guy I wish would stop touching me.
“What girl is worth waiting four hours for?” Theodore says with a laugh.
Ben leans back in his seat, but I’m eyeing his every movement. “Just this one,” he says quietly, to no one in particular. Or maybe his words were only meant for me.
Speaking of Amber. Or maybe I wasn’t speaking of Amber, I can’t remember now that Ben is here and my brain isn’t functioning properly. But Amber is back.
My eyes grow wide when I look up at her. She’s looking between me and Ben like one of us is a mirage. I totally get it, because I feel the same way. Might just be the alcohol, though. I shake my head and widen my eyes to let her know not to acknowledge that she knows Ben. Hopefully she understands my silent instructions.
Glenn is walking up behind her and I try to do the same with him, but as soon as he reaches the booth, he smiles and yells, “Ben!” He slides in next to him and throws an arm around him like he’s just found his best friend.
Yeah, Glenn’s drunk.
“You know this guy?” Theodore says, pointing at Ben.
Glenn starts to point at me, and that’s when he sees the look on my face. Good thing he’s not too drunk to decipher it. “Ummm . . .” He stutters. “We . . . um. We met earlier. In the bathroom.”
Theodore chokes on his drink. “You met in the bathroom?”
I take the opportunity to slide out of the booth, in desperate need of a break. This is way too much.
“Want me to come with you?” Amber asks, grabbing my elbow.
I shake my head. I think we both know I’m hoping Ben follows me so he can explain what the hell he’s doing here.
I walk quickly toward the bathroom, slightly embarrassed by how fast I just made a break for it. It’s funny how a grown adult can just forget how to function properly in the presence of someone else. But I feel like my insides are so hot, they’re beginning to scorch my bones. My cheeks are warm. My neck is warm. Everything is warm. I need to splash water on my face.
I walk into the bathroom and even though I don’t need to pee, I do anyway. I’m wearing a skirt that Amber forced me to put on and it’s so easy to use the bathroom when you’re in a skirt, it’s stupid not to take advantage of the opportunity. Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m getting a cab home right after I punch Ben in the face, so I might as well use the restroom while I’m here.