“Mmm, delicious.” Mona licks her lips as she looks up at the waiter. “Absolutely perfect.”
I can’t take my eyes off her, expensive steak and lame salad totally forgotten now. I need to figure out how long it will take her to eat her food, because that’s how long I will have to convince her to come back to me. Hopefully by then, she’ll have forgotten about her date tonight, nor would I have to explain to her that I created a fakeHolidatesprofile just to get her to meet with me.
I am Julian Lewis.
Ready to claim my woman by whatever means possible.
Forever.
NINE
Mona
I expectedAlex to freak out on me when I ordered the steak. I’m sure it’s really expensive, and he is not the type who’d spend this kind of money on food, especially on someone other than himself.
When I heard him order a salad, I about fell out of my chair. It took everything in me not to laugh, especially since I had planned on ordering just that upon leaving my apartment earlier.
Now, as we stare at each other with the plates of food in front of us, I can’t help the feeling of joy at having him here. I hate that I am so happy to see him after doing everything in my power to avoid him for the last few months. I missed him, though, and I hate myself for it.
Julian Lewis. I have to repeat the name in my head in order to remind myself that he will be my saving grace. I might ask if there’s anything I can bribe him with so that he’d take a stroll with me by the building where Alex lives, or where he works, anywhere that he might be able to see us together.
“Dig in,” he now tells me. He winks at me as he points to the large plate in front of me.
I clear my throat a couple of times. “This is a lot of food.”
Alex’s face becomes serious. “I hope you came hungry.”
That reminds me that I ate before coming here, so I am not hungry at all. But now I have to eat this steak, even if it is out of spite.
“Starving,” I smirk at him, lying through my teeth.
I pick up my utensils and cut into the meat with aggressive moves. With no elegance at all, I shove that first bite into my mouth, and I swear my eyes roll to the back of my head as it literally melts on my tongue.
“Oh my God! This is so good!”
I cut another piece, and then another, not stopping until I am at least halfway through. I lean back in my seat, needing a break from eating. I feel like I am about to explode, I am that full.
“Don’t forget about the sides,” Alex reminds me. It’s as if he knows I am close to passing out from eating this much.
I pull the baked potato closer and take a large scoop of it, which I then proceed to shove into my mouth. I chew extremely slowly to make sure that it won’t come back up.
“How’s your salad?” I ask. A glance at his plate shows that he is close to being done with it.
“Good.” He scoops a tomato and pops it in. “Very refreshing.”
I let out a silent groan of distress. I am literally sick from eating. This is not a predicament I’d foreseen for myself before leaving the apartment.
“You want the rest to go?” he asks me with a knowing look.
I want to say no and continue eating, because I want to show him. But I just can’t. I am physically incapable of taking another bite. I push the plate forward and lean back in the chair. There’s a possibility that I won’t be able to get up. How am I going to make it home like this?
In the corner of my eye, I notice Alex signaling for the waiter, who rushes to our table.
“We’d like a couple of boxes,” he tells him.
The waiter, just as before, bows in response, making me slightly uncomfortable. I don’t get why they do that. Is this what it means to have more money than you know what to do with it?
“Would you like to see the dessert menu?”
