“You should.” Vicky nods, smiling at the waiter as he approaches with our desserts.
Yes! Chocolate mousse!
“Here you go.” He sets down our desserts, and I smile at my chocolate decadence before casting a quick glance across the table.
Tyrell is frowning down at his slice of cheesecake like he might be sick.
Oh shit, is he not feeling well?
Is that why he’s being so quiet and unenthusiastic?
Sudden guilt hits me. Shit, I’ve been stewing over his grumpy ass while he’s possibly sitting there trying not to throw up.
I nudge his leg under the table, and he glances at me.
“You okay?” I mouth while Vicky tells Rhys all about the other places she visited on her whirlwind trip through Europe last summer.
Tyrell nods, frowning like he’s confused by my query.
“Sore tummy?” I touch my hand to my stomach.
His eyebrows dip even closer together as he shakes his head.
“What’s wrong?” I mouth.
He shakes his head again, grabbing his dessert fork and shoveling a large mouthful of cheesecake into his piehole.
Okay, fine. So he’s not feeling sick, then.
Now I’m back to being annoyed with his cranky ass.
My chocolate mousse doesn’t taste as sweet as I’m expecting it to, but I don’t think it’s the chef’s fault. I think it’s the sour notes Tyrell is flinging across the table. I’m almost relieved when dinner is over.
“Can I drive you home?” Rhys asks as we rise from the table.
Tyrell’s head whips to look at the man helping me into my jacket.
“Uh…”
“With no expectations of coming in or anything.” Rhys smiles when I turn to face him, and I can see that he means it.
Wow. A real gentleman. This guy really is perfect.
I glance at Tyrell, whose nostrils are flaring, his mouth set in a straight line, and… you know what?
“Yes.” I look away from my friend and smile at Rhys. “That’d be lovely. Thank you.”
Tyrell makes a soft growl in his throat, which makes us all turn to him with varying looks of surprise.
He tries to disguise it by clearing his throat, but we all heard that growl, and I have to gape at him, because seriously, what the fuck is his problem?
Clenching his jaw for what must be the three hundredth time tonight, he turns to Vicky with a scowl. “You need a ride?”
“No.” She pulls her jacket a little tighter around herself. “I’m gonna head out back and hang with my aunt and uncle for a while.” With a polite nod, she steps away from him, then gives me a hug and thanks Rhys for a wonderful evening. Tyrell gets nothing else from her, and he doesn’t freaking deserve it.
I can’t hide my angst when I give him a final glare. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yep.” He pops theP, his jaw working to the side as he stays put by the table, watching Rhys lead me out of the restaurant.
