Page 26 of Single Player

“Yeah, I met someone.” Dee’s teasing smile changed to something softer. “He’s amazing. We met at my party, actually.”

Silas remembered. “Oh, was he the one hanging off your face at the end of the night?”

“That’s the one.” Dee made a gun sign with her hand and fired it at him, not looking away from the road as she pulled onto the highway. “His name’s Francis. Which is totally unfortunate, but whatever.” She sighed, a dreamy sort of lovesick sigh that Silas hoped he never emitted himself. “I’m falling head over heels for him.”

“Already? It’s early for that. You’ve only known the guy for a couple of weeks.” As he said it, he felt a pang of guilt, because wasn’t he starting to fall for Matthew?

Wow, where did that come from?

“A couple of weeks is long enough to know a lot of things, Silas Benson.” Dee used her Mom voice on him, which still shocked Silas whenever it happened. “What about you? What have you been up to?”

She hadn’t heard anything about Matthew, and now Silas felt acutely aware that he had to tell her, even though she was going to lose her mind and get way too over the top about it. “I met someone at your party, too. I’ve seen him a couple of times since then.” He tried to force nonchalance into his voice.

Dee’s head whipped around to look at him. “Silas, are you telling me that you’ve been dating someone and this is the first I hear of it?”

“I’ve been busy.” His defense sounded weak. “Watch the road. You’re going to get us killed.”

As expected, she didn’t relent. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We haven’t talked. Anyway, it’s nothing serious.” Just sex, he wanted to add, but he wasn’t sure if that would increase or decrease the invasiveness of her questions. Whatever was happening between him and Matthew wasn’t just sex, though, and he couldn’t exactly define what it was. He didn’t want to define what it was.

“Is he cute? Do I know him?” Dee did that thing where she asked multiple questions at once, as if impatient for the traditional give-and-take of conversation.

Silas answered them all in order. “Yes, sort of.”

“Oh my god—is it the bartender?” Dee let go of the wheel to clap. “I knew it. I thought he was perfect for you.”

Silas rolled his eyes. “All you knew was that he was good-looking and tended bar. Unless you’re claiming magical psychic abilities now.”

“Nope, not psychic, but I do have a feeling about these things.” Dee smiled.

She held off the questions for the rest of the drive, but he was sure she’d start up again later once they got settled at dinner. They ended up at a Mexican restaurant on the outskirts of town, a little mom-and-pop place by the looks of it, one that Silas had never even driven by or seen before. “What’s this?” he asked, even though the sign out front clearly said La Casita, with a color scheme and font choice that indicated a Mexican restaurant.

“Francis took me here a couple of weeks ago and the food was incredible. I thought you would like it.” Dee got out of the car.

“I like all food. We’ve covered that.” For a guy who sometimes forgot to eat, yes, Silas did appreciate all food. That was something he could bring up to Matthew that he enjoyed. Matthew, who thought he lived a completely banal existence except for work and had no pleasure in life that wasn’t his job. Allergic to fun, as he’d put it.

The restaurant was small and dimly lit, with decor that looked authentic and quiet music playing that was vaguely Spanish sounding. Silas and Dee were led to a table near the window, which let a little of the early evening light stream across their table. He looked out at the parking lot, half empty with cars glowing red-orange in the sunset, and thought about the general emptiness of everything. Having Dee around helped. She had launched into a story about her date with Francis here, and what foods they had tried and what they had thought of them, and he was able to listen with one ear while also zoning out as well. Maybe it wasn’t polite, but he had a lot on his mind, and some unsettled feelings that he couldn’t exactly reason his way through.

“What do you want to get?” Dee asked after the waitress left with their drink orders—a margarita for Dee and a Pepsi for Silas—and they’d had a few minutes to look over the menu. Well, Dee had had a few minutes. Silas just stared at the menu without reading it. He was hungry, but he didn’t know what he wanted.

“I don’t know. It all looks good. Why don’t you order me something?” Silas folded the menu and set it aside. “I’m not sure what I want. You know what I like.”

Dee perked up at that and returned with renewed interest to the menu, her lips pursed in concentration. After a few minutes, she nodded, and then ordered different taco assortments for both of them when the waitress returned, carrying drinks.

“So, tell me about this Francis guy.” Silas drank his Pepsi and ate one of the tortilla chips the waitress had brought.

Dee looked off to the side, thinking. “Well, he’s a nurse at Tampa General Hospital, he’s twenty-eight, and he has a pit bull puppy. He’s hot.” She fanned herself. “Jesus, he’s hot. I’m hopping on that every opportunity I get.”

“That’s too much information, Dee. I’m on a need-to-know basis with your sex life, remember?” The chips were good, hot and fresh, and he was starting to realize how hungry he was as he sat there eating them.

“Speaking of which.” Dee folded her arms, then realized she wanted to eat more chips and unfolded them to dig her hand into the bowl. “I’m on a need-to-know basis with your sex life, too, and I need to know what’s really up with you and the bartender. You said it’s not serious, but do you like him?”

“Sure, he’s nice enough.” Silas tipped his head to the side. “Why would I go see someone I didn’t like?”

“I mean like like. Do you want to date him more?”

“I’m going to see him again next week, but it’s not like we’re really dating.” What they were doing didn’t seem like dating. Making a cat wheelchair together wasn’t a common date, after all.