“I have a question, though,” he continued.
She turned back, resigned. “Okay.” She looked leery.
“Why would you make a po’boy out of oysters?” If Nathan had picked up on her attitude, he didn’t show it. “That is just gross. It’s like blowing your nose on a sandwich.”
The server looked as if she wanted a hole to open up beneath her feet and swallow her. “You’ll have to ask the manager. I don’t make decisions regarding what’s on the menu.”
“But it’s gross,” Nathan insisted.
She sighed. “Would you like me to get the manager?” That was obviously the last thing she wanted to do.
“No,” I answered before Nathan could.
She nodded. “What would you like to drink?”
“Iced tea for me,” I said.
“I’ll have the Stella on tap,” Nathan added.
The server smiled, but there was nothing warm about it. “Great.”
I watched her go, amused despite myself. “How many times do you think she’s been asked about the oyster po’boy?” I asked.
“Not nearly enough if she doesn’t have an answer prepared. Tell me I’m wrong,” he said, focusing on me. “That’s gross, right?”
“I’ve never been a fan of oysters, so I have to agree. Obviously, somebody likes it, though. They wouldn’t keep it on the menu otherwise.”
“I bet only two people ever have ordered that, and both did it on a dare.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I tapped my fingers on the table, nervous energy taking over. I waited two beats. “What do you think about the words?”
“I’ll have to read them if you want me to serve as a judge.”
“I don’t need you to read them. I just want you to comment on the fact that I wrote them at all.”
His smile was surprisingly soft. “I’m glad you got some writing in. But I’m curious why the well is no longer dry. Is it the event last night? Is it whoever you had sex with?”
The server just happened to be delivering our drinks when he said the last part, and I slapped my hand to my forehead. “Why can’t you ever be normal?” I hissed.
Nathan merely shrugged before offering up a wink to the server. “It was just a question.”
A stupid question.I waited until the server was gone again—she couldn’t get away from us fast enough—and focused on Nathan. “There was no sex. Why can’t you get that through your thick head?”
“Because you’re far too happy. There had to be sex. Nobody gets that excited about words.”
“You do when it’s been two years.”
“When was the last time you had sex?”
There was no way I was answering that question. Instead, I decided to divert him toward another subject he might be interested in. “There was a guy at the event last night. I saw you talking to him. Joey something or other.”
Nathan’s eyebrows moved toward his hairline. “Oh,” he said, dragging out the sound.
I was confused by his shift. “Oh, what?”
“I didn’t realize you were into guys. It’s okay, man. I’ll start trying to find a guy for you.”
It took me a moment to realize what he was getting at. “I’m not into guys.”
