Page 146 of Fragments
Taking a bite, I’m in fucking heaven. These things really need sauce. They’re so dry and boring. To be honest, anything they serve us would be better with ketchup, but naturally it’s hard to get.
He must have saved this one packet just for me.
My thoughts spin while I’m enjoying my food, watching Ren in my peripheral.
“Where’d you get it?” I ask him, trying to sound as casual and non-accusatory as possible. “The ketchup…”
“I found it in one of my old bags of snacks,” he answers calmly. No twitching or fidgets.It’s a good sign.“I’ve been making the stuff last, but I just got to the bottom of the one from Monroe and there it was.” He smirks at me. “For my sexy little tomato.”
My gaze narrows. “Why am I a tomato?”
He leans in, poking my chin with his fingertip. “Because you’re a fruit and no one knows it.”
I’m trying so hard to crush the amusement on my face, but when he bursts into a loud cackle, I can’t help letting the laughter slip.
“I really hate you.” I bite petulantly into my nugget.
“Now, we know that’s just not true,Lex Luthor.” His fingers slide up into my shirt.
This guy… I can’t.
I think I believe him, about the ketchup. Usually, when Ren’s lying, his body language shifts, his subtle movements in his fingers or his jaw giving him away. At the same time, he’s so damn charming that a lot of times it’s difficult to tell.
I remember last year, he went on this whole tangent about how he slept with Lance Bass at a party in The Hamptons. We all believed him until he slipped up a few days later and revealed that he didn’t know the difference between ‘NSYNC and The Backstreet Boys.
He can be very convincing sometimes.
“So, baby, I was thinking…” he murmurs, gripping my thigh under the table. “I’m gonna ask Velle to let us hang out for a little bit this weekend.”
My forehead lines. “And how exactly do you expect to pull that off?”
“You let me worry about the details,” he chirps. “Just get that hot body ready to be worshipped.”
As much as I’m loving the idea of spending alone time with him, and the way it sounds when he calls mehotin that illustrious tone of his, the icky feeling is returning to my chest.
“Babe, I don’t—”
“If it isn’t Peter Pan and Twinkerbell…” A rumbling voice comes from my left, and our heads spring up to find Percy Gage—this giant asshole who’s been here less than a year and already somehow thinks he owns the place—standing with his arms folded over his chest. “You boys are pretty cute together.”
Ren’s fingers tighten on my thigh.
“Seniority, Gage,” I mutter. “You’re forgetting your manners.”
“I’m being polite,” he keeps pressing. “Extending an invitation.” His smug gaze lingers on Ren. “Bring your boyfriend with you next time, princess. I’d like to try him out.”
Ren jumps up from his seat, and I’m instantly nervous. “Ren… don’t.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He ignores me, getting in Gage’s face.
“I think I’m one of many who have ridden your sweet ass raw,” Gage hisses, leaning in closer. “And I’m ready for more. So are my friends over there.” He nods at the next table over, where a bunch of other meathead assholes are looking on, grinning.
My stomach is churning, from his words, and the wrath in Ren’s eyes. I knew it wouldn’t be easy dating someone who’s made his rounds in this place. But usually, it’s anout of sight, out of mindsituation. As long as it doesn’t come stomping over announcing itself, you can pretend it never happened.
Unfortunately, Gage isn’t the type to keep his mouth shut.
I really fucking hate this guy.
“I’m gonna need you to apologize to Lexington.” Ren squints at Gage’s face. “For interrupting our dinner with your overcompensating bullshit.”
