I glance over at JP, who’s smirking, fork in hand with a giant piece of meatloaf on the tines. He tips the fork to Helix and says, “My compliments to the chef.” And then he takes a bite.
Meanwhile, my randy and ready body is over here, sending an SOS to the universe, saying, “I’ll have what HE’S having.”
“Are you really not going to talk to me for the rest of the evening?”
Whispering, I ask, “Do you realize how embarrassing that was?”
“Yeah, really embarrassing for you. Helix saw you turned on, nipples hard, ready to go. Not sure if he was ready for that.”
“I was NOT turned on,” I say, even though I think we all know that’s a complete lie. “You’re acting like a child.”
“Or am I just trying to loosen you up? Christ, woman, take a chill pill.”
“Don’t tell me to loosen up. I’ll loosen up when I want to loosen up.”
He nods, lips locked in a way that communicates exactly what he’s thinking—she’s crazy.
“Well, guess what, I’m only crazy because you’re making me crazy.”
His brow pulls together. “What?”
Wait . . . huh?
“I didn’t say you were crazy.”
“Then what did you say?”
“Nothing.” He raises his glass. “But now I’m thinking you’re crazy.”
I groan and rest my arms on the table, crossing them in front of me. “Ugh, this night will never end.”
“Instead of complaining about it, you could ask me another question, you know?”
“That doesn’t sound appealing.”
“Fine, I’ll ask you a question.” He clears his throat obnoxiously. “So, tell me, Kelsey, what are you looking for in a man?”
“Not you.”
“Your flushed cheeks from moments ago beg to differ.”
I swear I feel steam blow out my nose.
Smirking, he adds, “You know, we can either sit here in silence, which I know makes you more uncomfortable and chattier and will cause you to divulge information you probably don’t want me knowing. Or, you can control your babbling by answering a simple question.”
Why is he right?
Just add it to the list of infuriating things about the man.
“Ask me something else.”
“Okay, what do you find attractive in a man?”
I roll my eyes heavily. “Let me guess—if I don’t answer this question, you will find one eerily similar to ask?”
He grins. “Yes, and I’ll keep going from there.”
I dab at my mouth with my napkin and then set it back in my lap. “Fine, you want to know what I want in a man? Well, firstly, someone who doesn’t annoy me, secondly, someone who doesn’t purposefully lie—”
He slides his hand on the table and says, “Kelsey, from the tone of your voice, it almost seems like you’re suggesting that I annoy you and purposefully lie.”
“How did you ever figure that out? Wow, JP, you’re a genius.”
“Jesus,” he mutters. “You’re ripe tonight. You’ve always been decently chill, but tonight, you’re on another level.”
I set my napkin on the table and fold my arms as I lean back. “Yes, because I thought tonight was going to be different. I thought . . .” In a wistful tone, I continue, “I thought I was going to meet someone I could actually date. I thought this was the start of something new, something exciting. I was excited to go on a date, but that’s not what tonight has been. It’s been disappointing, and a giant ball of irritation. So, excuse me if I’m not the delightful company you expected.”
“You’re really not. I might ask for a refund. Hypercritical fishwife isn’t what I call a good first date or a match, for that matter.”
“Fishwife?” I ask.
“Yup. Already called you a shrew, thought fishwife would be a good second option.”
“Yeah . . . well, you’re a . . . you’re a . . .”
“A what?” he asks, his grin growing even wider.
Think, Kelsey, think of a good name.
“A shortsighted boob.”
He tosses his head back, laughter erupting from his lips. “That’s the best you could come up with? A shortsighted boob? Shit.” He wipes at his eyes as I grow more furious by the second. “I think I might get that printed on a T-shirt. You’re a shortsighted boob. Jesus, that’s good.”
I stare at him as he continues to laugh, then chuckle, then laugh again, and when he finally calms himself down, I ask, “Are you finished?”