Page 27 of Rebound
My point is, Benjamin only talks about teeth. But I know nothing about teeth, so I’m bored out of my mind. I can’t say anything because I don’t want to be rude, and I feel like this is punishment for those times when I might have unknowingly bored someone to tears by talking about hockey and the importance of women in sports.
“Now, plaque, plaque is very interesting,” Benjamin pauses and looks at me. “Do you floss?”
“I tell my dentist I do,” I joke.
Benjamin blinks and doesn’t laugh. I take a deep breath and finger my napkin. At least the restaurant is gorgeous, stonearches, wood paneling, and soft lights. Everyone around us is having a good time and the food is delicious.
“Uh, yes, I floss. Every day.”
I pick up my lemon drop and take a sip. For the record, dinner as a first date is a bad idea. It’s a rookie mistake. Also, for the record, never let your great-aunt make the reservations for you. The best part of this date was when Benjamin went to the restroom, and I texted Roman. Which is saying a lot because it wasn’t a thrilling conversation.
“You were talking about plaque?” I urge.
Benjamin clears his throat. “If you’ll excuse me a minute?”
“Of course,” I say, feeling confused.
He gets up and walks to the restroom again. How much water did he drink in a day? My phone rings and I quickly grab it from my bag.
“How’s it going?” Jules asks. “Need me to fake an emergency yet?”
“He’s talking about plaque,” I say.
“Eugh!”
“Exactly. He’s in the restroom now and this is his third trip.” Come to think of it, he hasn’t taken a sip of water since we sat down.
“He’s either doing drugs or he’s trying to get in touch with his emergency contact,” Jules says.
“He’s a doctor, I don’t think he’s doing drugs.”
“He’s a dentist,” Jules corrects. “I don’t trust dentists. Why would anyone want to join a profession which has a biting risk?”
I startle when someone takes a seat across from me. Looking up, I expect to see Benjamin and I’m readying a lie as to why I’m on the phone. Instead, my eyes meet thickly lashed hazel ones.
“Roman,” I breathe.
“Roman?” Jules echoes.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him.
“What is he doing there?” Jules says.
I blink to clear my vision because for a second, I think I conjured him. But no, he’s really here. Sitting across from me. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a black shirt that’s rolled up to reveal his tattooed forearms. His hair is wet, as if he came here directly after taking a shower.
“Lavinia. What a surprise,” Roman says.
“Can you keep the phone connected so I can listen in?” Jules asks.
“Juliet, I will reenact the whole thing for you later.”
“Fine!”
I hang up and lean across the table to whisper-yell at Roman. There’s two days old scruff on his jaw that I find extremely distracting. I have the inexplicable urge to run my teeth along his jaw.
“What are you doing here?”
His hazel eyes burn bright. “Saving you from Mr. Plaque.”
