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He stares at me in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"
"Just that, in the day, during the week, you're my boss and we have a boss-employee relationship and that works. And then on fun nights once a week, we're able to have fun as a preamble to hot sex and we both know that this isn't leading anywhere serious and we both know that we don't want the other one to catch feelings. So maybe we don't want to do things that could come across as caring, because then that indicates more of a deep relationship and we don't want that. Right?"
He licks his lips and nods slowly.
"Don’t get me wrong, I'm very grateful for the offer, but I just don't want to complicate everything."
"Noted," he says.
"And this is only our first fun night," I say. "It's fine for us to define what is and isn't acceptable."
"Okay," he says.
"You look pissed off at me."
"I'm not pissed off. I'm just taken aback. I was trying to be..." He pauses. "You know what? Let's don't even have this conversation. Let's enjoy the music, wait for our drinks, and have a good night."
I can tell he is annoyed, but I don't know what else to say. I don't know why he's annoyed. He was the one that had initially told me that I wasn't to expect anything. Now he’s trying to tell me that I could expect him to be there for me at any time for any reason? Shit. That’s something only your parents or your very best friend in the world says, not your friend with benefits at the beginning of the friends with benefits relationship.
I lick my lips nervously and just stare at the stage. There's an uncomfortable silence between us, but I'm going to ignore it for now. The singer changes the song to one I know and I start clapping my hands.
"Oh my gosh. I love this song. I love Nina Simone."
"It's a good one," he says, and I try not to sigh deeply.
I'm not going to let his pissy mood annoy me. Not after the evening started out so nicely.
The waiter hurries back to the table with our drinks and a little bowl of peanuts. "I'll be back," he says. "Enjoy."
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah?" he says, looking at me.
"What's the name of the drink?"
"It's called the fruity peacock."
"Oh, okay. And are you going to tell us what's in it or..."
"Oh, no. Our mystery drinks, we never say what's in them. We don't want anyone to steal them." He grins. "Enjoy.”
He heads away and I look over and at Kingston, who shrugs. We pick up our glasses and cheers before both taking a sip.
"Oh my gosh, this is delicious." I lick my lips. "But I have absolutely no idea what's in it."
"I think it has rum and maybe pineapple juice." He takes another sip. "There's something else in here, but I just can't tell what it is."
"Right? But isn't it delicious?"
"Very," he says, nodding.
I take another sip then close my eyes and listen to the singer. I feel like I've been transported back in time to the 1940s and I'm here with my mobster boyfriend, doing something illicit and illegal. It feels kind of cool. It feels kind of fun and I realize that I've missed this in my life. I've been so focused on trying to save money to go and see the world that I haven't been enjoying the here and the now.
My eyes fly open and I look over at Kingston. I'm surprised to see that he's staring at me, a weird expression on his face.
"Hey, everything okay?" I ask him.
"Yeah. I was just listening to the music," he says, as if I hadn't just caught him staring at me.
