Page 21 of Only You and Me

“Sorry,” I groan. “Old habits die hard.”

Jack chuckles. “It’s okay. Don’t go too hard on him when I’m gone, though.”

“I won’t. Wait. What? Whenyou’regone?” The panic in my voice is obvious.

Now Ben’s the one laughing. “Yup. Jackie here invited me last minute, so I’m not on the same flight as him. I’m leaving tomorrow evening. When you do. When the only flight back to Ohio leaves.”

My jaw drops and I’m speechless.

“That, my friends, is my cue to leave,” Jack says. “See you later, Trina. Ben, I’ll see you at Mom and Dad’s for dinner Sunday, right?”

Ben nods, and Jack says goodbye and walks out. Leaving me alone with his twin.

“So, you gonna need another shot to get through sitting here with me?” Ben teases.

“You’re half joking, but, yeah, I think I am. I’ll go get this round.” I leap off my seat and head to the bar before he can stop me.

Five minutes later, I’m back at the table with two more shots of the smooth tequila—double shots this time. I set them on the table and return to the bar to grab the beer I ordered for him and the second glass of chardonnay for me. When I return to the table, Ben watches me warily, following my jerky movements with his eyes.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” I pin my stare on him.

“Well, for starters, you look like you just found out you’re sitting at a table with Charles Manson. And you came back from the bar with more drinks and what appears to be a double shot for each of us. Not that I’m judging, but I don’t remember you being much of a drinker.”

“You hung out with me for a few months. That’s not long enough to know another person.” The irritation in my voice grates on my ears. “Maybe I’ve started drinking a lot more since then.” I pick up my shot and toss it back.

Ben follows suit.

“Trina, let’s get some dinner. Clearly that I’m still here tonight has caught you off guard, but I can’t drink this much without getting some food in my system.”

I search his face, looking for any hint of insincerity in it. “Is this some kind of trick?”

Ben grins that annoyingly handsome smile I’ve always hated—okay, not always. “Damn, you got me. I’m trying to trick you into eating so you’re not drinking on an empty stomach.” He rubs his hands together, trying to appear sinister. “You’ve foiled my evil plan.”

I watch him for several long seconds and, because it’s easier than sitting here awkwardly, I agree to dinner. Ben goes over to the hostess stationed outside the hotel restaurant and puts our name in for a table. I don’t miss the way the young woman ogles him the entire time he’s walking back to me. She’s probably looking at his ass—he’s always had a great one.

When he sits back at the table, Ben wears a huge smile. “She said ten minutes and there should be a table for us.”

* * *

BEN

Forty minutes after I’ve requested a table for Trina and me, a server delivers our steaming hot food to our table. The aroma of garlic and basil wafts toward me as the server sets the plates of lasagna and chicken parmigiana in front of us. She places a loaf of warm bread in the middle of the table and pours a small amount of olive oil with Italian seasoning on a plate next to it.

“Would you be able to bring us some butter for the bread as well?” I ask the server.

“Of course. I’ll be right back with it.”

I take the bread knife in my hand and cut the bread into slices. When the server returns to the table with the butter, I spread some on two of the slices of bread and pass them to Trina. Then I dip a piece for myself into the olive oil and place it on my plate.

When I glance back up at Trina, she’s staring at me, wide-eyed, and her lips slightly parted.

“What?”

“You didn’t want the butter for yourself? You got it for me?” Her voice is quiet, almost surprised sounding.

I shrug a shoulder and nod. “It’s no big deal. I thought you didn’t like the olive oil. You always preferred butter. If that’s changed, we can switch pieces.”

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