Page 61 of Forever Mine
“Sure,” David replies and slides to the end of his booth seat.
I get a phone shoved in my face.
“Just tap the screen.”
She slips into David’s lap and presses in close. “Melissa is going to be super jealous. She thinks you’re super hot.”
“Anytime, blondie,” David says through a frozen, practiced smile.
I take three pictures just to make sure.
“Darci!” the manager shouts from the bar.
Scrambling up, she snatches her phone back. “I’ll be super quick with your drinks.”
“Super,” I reply.
David snickers behind a closed fist he pretends to cough in.
“You, Fallon, and Julien need to start a boy band.”
“Fuck, no,” David swiftly refutes. “Did you see what went down at the party?”
I fold my napkin into a triangle football and position it on one of its vertices on the table. David makes a goal with his fingers.
“I luckily got to miss it,” I reply, lining up my shot and flicking the triangle.
It flies high and to the right, hitting David on the arm before falling into his lap.
“Two guys were beating the crap out of each other over some girl. Fallon kicked both their asses. Guys, not the girl. My turn.” He flicks the paper football and scores.
“Seems to be contagious,” I remark.
This time, when I let the paper football fly, it sails between his fingers. I cup my hands to my mouth and cheer.
“Goal! And the crowd goes wild.”
“You’re an idiot. An adorable idiot, but still an idiot.”
Darci returns with our drinks and a basket of chips with salsa we didn’t order.
“On me,” she says, setting it down with a flourish in front of David along with her phone number written in black ink on the back of a napkin. “Burgers will be right out.”
David sets his iced tea on top of her number. Condensation drips down the glass and soaks into the paper, creating a Rorschach inkblot.
“How are things with the Liz situation?” he asks, picking up on my earlier reference.
I haven’t told him everything, but I’ve told him enough.
“Complicated. And after last weekend, things are about to get even more complicated.”
Darci comes back once again, her arms laden with two large plates. The burgers are monstrous, overstuffed with bacon and dripping cheddar. My stomach gets excited in anticipation, and I waste no time diving in, savoring the explosion of flavors.
“Anything else?” Darci inquires, frowning at the napkin with her ruined number.
“We’re good.”
The bar explodes into loud cacophony when a touchdown is made. Pint glasses and beer bottles clink together in celebration.
