Page 56 of Old-Fashioned

I was spinning my wheels in the booth.

I told her to never lie to me.

And she had promised she wouldn’t ever do that.

So, imagine my surprise when I saw her walk into the restaurant and wave at another man, and then head to his table.

And I saw red when I saw him stand up, wrap his arms around her and hugged her.

I wanted to rip his arms from his body.

But I held my seat.

Waiting.

Watching.

See, this morning after our shift, she told me that she was meeting up with one of her dearest friends from back home, I hadn’t batted an eye.

I had been cautious though after she told me what happened, but this was her life.

The only thing I could do was be there for her and catch her when she fell.

And I trusted her.

Yes, I did trust her, even though I asked which restaurant and the time they were meeting here so I could plant my ass down and keep my promise of catching her if she fell.

However, this man… there was something about him that didn’t read as one of her dearest friends.

Not with the looks I was seeing him give her.

I wanted answers.

After the passionate kiss we shared, agreeing to take things slow, why the fuck would she be having dinner with that motherfucker.

I stared at my uneaten steak, and baked sweet potato, and then had to clench my fists when she threw her head back and laughed.

And that laugh?

It fucking slayed me.

Why?

Because she only ever laughed like that with me.

Before I could have another thought, the waitress walked over to my table and asked, “Is the food not to your liking, sir?”

I ignored the waitress, grabbed my knife and fork, and was about to cut a piece of the steak when she fucking laughed again.

And I decided I couldn’t take it anymore, I got up from my spot, stalked over, and once I was close enough, I realized I was too angered to recognize that slow sweet smile of hers that came upon her face when she saw me.

I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck, then slammed my lips down on hers.

“Now, why the fuck did you let me kiss you and then have dinner with some mother fucker that isn’t me?”

The man looked up at me and when his eyes lingered over my crotch, biceps, and chest… umm… “Damn big man. Please tell me you swing the other way. Oh please. Oh, and do you like threesomes?”

What the fuck?

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