Page 23 of Book Boyfriend
I dab Fisher’s nose as I gaze into brown pools of chocolate with peanut butter streaks of gold. This is exactly what I was afraid of. I was so worried he was going to turn out to be a psychopath. But as I look into those eyes, my heart softens. He doesn’t look crazy to me. He looks sincere and almost cocky. He doesn’t seem the least bit worried that I’m going to press charges. Why is that?
“I’m sorry I scared you. It was never my intention. I figured you’d know it was me from when I had them play Fall Out Boy. You know, the T-shirt you dug out of the trash when you won an all-inclusive stay in Florida?”
Marcus rolls his eyes and frowns as he stares at me. I know nothing would please him more than to haul Fisher off to jail.
“Everyone knows I like Fall Out Boy! Why couldn’t you just call me like a normal human being?”
“Well, if someone had given me their real number, then maybe I would have.”
My lips purse. He got me on that one.
Marcus pulls tighter on his arms as Fisher tries to step toward me. Fisher’s face strains and I panic at the thought that he’s hurt.
“Can I explain?” he asks.
I’m probably a fool for wanting to hear him out. “Take the cuffs off. I want to talk to him in private.”
“Ms. Greer, I highly suggest you reconsider.”
A flashing light catches my eye toward the window and I see one of Marcus’s men speaking with an officer. I turn my head and notice multiple phones out recording the event.
“Oh my God.” I face Fisher once more and whisper, “Why does every encounter I have with you have to be a public spectacle?”
“Believe me when I say this is not what I had in mind.”
An officer walks into the restaurant. “Let’s get him down to the station.”
“Marcus. No.” I insist.
He shakes his head before it falls in frustration. “It seems my client doesn’t want to press charges at this time.”
He unlocks the cuffs and Fisher massages his wrists.
The officer frowns. “I need a full report right now.”
Marcus whispers to Fisher, “I’m watching you.” He turns and leads the officer out of the building, talking the whole way.
I turn to the crowd. “Show’s over, folks.”
Fisher adds, “Soon to be in theaters.”
As people slowly move back to their tables, I close my eyes to get a grip. This is not how I pictured this night.
“Can we talk?” he whispers, leaning in.
I hand him the napkin for his nose. “Not here.”
As I walk out of the restaurant and sit on a bench outside, I gaze up and notice Marcus watching me carefully. It makes me feel better to know he still has my back even though he’s pissed.
“May I join you?” Fisher asks, standing next to me, gazing down.
I nod. He rubs his nose lightly with the napkin and balls it up in his hands as he sits down.
“I had no idea you’d be scared.”
“Really? Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask as I face him. “Some stranger is reenacting my book and sending me gifts. I know nothing about you. Why would I consider it was you even for a second? I haven’t thought about you in forever. And even if I had, why would I still not be scared out of my mind?”
His eyes furrow. “I’ll deal with the part about you not thinking of me in a second. But first, are you trying to tell me you never once Googled me? Never looked up my Facebook profile or tried to find me on Instagram?”
