Speaking of timing – the server chose that moment to approach us again, with our food on a platter. I pulled out my phone to snap a picture of my plate, then turned the camera up to her. She raised her hands to cover her face.
“Oh my God,” she said, through a mouthful of food, “do not put me on your Instagram. The last thing I need is a gang of your fans mobbing me.”
I shook my head. “See, I was just messing with you. I was taking a picture to rub my breakfast in Derrick’s face, but now I have to put it online.”
“Don’t you dare!” she hissed, eyes getting big as hell.
I laughed. “Chill. I wouldn’t do that. Look, you’re not even in the picture.” I pulled the photo up, then turned my screen in her direction to show her. “See?”
“My hands are in it,” she pointed out. “Right there, ripping that chicken wing apart.”
“Yeah…” I glanced at her plate. “You were pretty hungry, huh?”
She glared at me, then picked up her fork, stabbing a piece of waffle. “All that emotional honesty, you know? It’s draining.”
“Sure,” I teased. “You want me to crop your hands out?”
She shrugged. “Why wouldn’t you? Can’t have your women thinking you have… a woman.”
“Nah, that’s exactly what I want them to think,” I chuckled. “A woman who will rip a chick in half over me, just like you did with that chicken.”
“Ha, ha. Why would you want “the gram” to think you have a girlfriend? Doesn’t that lower your booty-getting potential?”
I shook my head. “You assume I want social media booty. I don’t.”
She smirked. “You wanted this social media booty.”
“Correction – I wanted the booty when you showed it to me on the street that day in that pretty little dress you were wearing.”
She stopped chewing. “You didn’t see my ass.”
I chuckled, then leaned in. “I saw it all.”
“I pulled my dress down too quick for you to see—”
“Those cute little light blue, bumblebee print panties? You know… I didn’t notice really notice the freckles on your ass then though. I guess that was secondary to the outline of your pu—”
“Shut up!” Her eyes were wide again, and she reached for her water, taking a long sip. “I don’t like you very much right now.”
I laughed, then finally took a bite of my own food. “What did I do?”
“Telling every damn thing you know, damn.” She curled her lip at me, but the amusement in her eyes gave away her real feelings.
We spent several minutes in comfortable silence, just enjoying our food. More than once, I caught her looking at me, but she would quickly glance away, returning to her meal. The last time though, she held my gaze.
“What’s up?” I asked, sitting back as I wiped my mouth.
“That’s the same thing I’m wondering.”
We spent the rest of the night going over Brandi and Gia’s man problems, and through Gia’s bottle of wine. I indulged in a second glass myself, and by the time I’d put them both in taxis to get home, I was past ready to climb into bed.
I changed into sleep clothes, then perused my kitchen, looking for a late night snack I didn’t need. On the counter, my phone buzzed, and I stopped what I was doing to check it.
“What are you up to Gorgeous?”
I smiled at the phone, tapping out a response as I headed to my bedroom.
“Just dipped a spoon in the peanut butter, then the Nutella. So, about to have an orgasm basically.”
“You can’t be saying those types of things to me at this time of night, FRIEND. Especially after I’ve been drinking.”
I giggled as I dropped to the edge of the bed.
“My bad. But for the record, that’s exactly the type of text I would have sent Brandi or Gia. So, I’m equal opportunity around here. Were you out tonight?”
“Yeah, just got in. About to shower and pass out. ”
I looked at my phone for a few minutes, debating, then decided to go ahead with what was on my mind.
“Rest up. Hey… breakfast in the morning? At Battered Birds again?”
“Wish I could, but I’ve already got plans. Rain check?”
I poked out my bottom lip, a little disappointed that he’d turned me down.
“Of course. I’ll catch you another time!”
After that, I got up to go return my spoon to the kitchen. When I came back, I climbed into bed, then waited to hear from Brandi and Gia that they’d made it home.
I’d been forcing myself to stay off of his Instagram page, but restlessness led me there anyway. I smiled at the pictures and videos of him, him with his friends, and his family. My breath caught in my throat at the picture of me.
Well, my hands at least.
“Breakfast with a beautiful savage.” Was the caption under the picture, and I shook my head and smiled. My ripping apart of that chicken did look pretty violent.
I didn’t subject myself to the comments underneath. Good or bad, I wasn’t taking that chance. I kept scrolling until I got to pictures I’d seen before, then took my time scrolling back through the more recent ones, until I fell asleep.