When he got out of the stall the second time, there was a man at the sink.
“You alright, mate?” He asked.
“Yeah.” Rowan nodded. “I mean, yes, thank you for asking.”
The man didn’t look convinced, but nodded and exited the bathroom.
Rowan ran the cold water tap and rinsed his mouth, then splashed some water on his flushed face.
The door opened, and it was Mikhail entering this time, and with him came restaurant smells wafting into the two-stall bathroom before he shut and locked the door. He then hurried over so he was standing behind Ro.
“Are you okay?” Mikhail traced his face with his eyes in the mirror. “I’m sorry love I had to wait until you were alone.”
Rowan stood straight and turned the tap off, then grabbed a couple of paper towels from the dispenser.
He shrugged his shoulders and gave the only answer he had. “I’m not sure.” Rowan frowned. “I must have eaten something bad earlier.”
Liar,a voice whispered.
“We can leave if you want. You don’t look too well.” Mikhail’s eyes never left his face.
“Why, thank you,” Rowan said with more sarcasm than he intended, but he immediately felt bad, so he turned around and apologised. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”
Mikhail lifted his hand and cupped Rowan’s cheek. “No apologies necessary. Being sick would do that to me too. Are you sure you don’t want to leave?”
“I think I’ll be fine.” Before he could add anything else, someone knocked on the door and called out.
“Hey, who locked this?”
“That’s our cue,” Rowan said. “Come on, I’m fine. I promise.”
Mikhail didn’t look convinced, but he nodded anyway and took Rowan’s hand in his as they exited the bathroom together while trying not to make eye contact with the guy who’d knocked.
He figured most people would assume they’d been up to something, not that he’d just thrown up the contents of his stomach.
His hands went to his belly as Mikhail pulled out his chair for him, and Rowan couldn’t help wondering if maybe there was more to it than he was willing to admit.
But on the heels of that, there was a part of him that said don’t get your hopes up.
Mik took his seat but kept staring at him. “Are you sure you’re alright? We can leave.”
Ro nodded, picked up the cloth napkin touching it to his lips. He pulled the basket of bread that the waitress must have left on their table closer to him, and his stomach growled. Ro checked to see if there were any more signs of being sick, but he felt fine and that bread looked and smelled delicious. Rowan took two out of the basket, immediately biting into one while placing the other on his plate. Once he polished off the first roll, freeing up his hand, he lifted his knife and one of those little packets of butter. Without wasting time, he cut into the second roll and then slathered it with butter before bringing it to his lips, Rowan took a huge bite, and Mmm’d his appreciation as he chewed on the warm buttered roll.
When he looked up, it was to find Mikhail watching him with amused eyes as Ro polished off the rest of the bread.
When he finished chewing and swallowed, he defended himself. “I’m hungry.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Mikhail pointed out.
“Your eyes did.” Rowan stuck his tongue out and picked up yet another bread roll.
“I ordered us the six-course tasting menu,” Mik said, “but you may not have any room with the way you’re going at that bread.”
“I’m hungry now.” Rowan’s voice was muffled as he bit into the bread again. “Sue me.”
“I can see that,” Mikhail said with a teasing gleam in his eyes. “But save some room for the artichoke smoked eel macaroni with hazelnut and chicory. Doesn’t that sounds mouth watering.”
Eel... Ro immediately felt green again. “That sounds”—he had to swallow as saliva filled his mouth, it was definitely mouth-watering in the worst way—“great.”
