I crumpled up my napkin and threw it at his face. It hit him square in the nose.
“Very mature,” he said.
“I don’t think I’m a pain in the ass in general. I think you just bring out the ass in me.”
He smirked. “It’s a nice ass to bring out. Speaking of which, if you’re full, I could help you unzip to get comfortable.”
Jesus, he really was a smartass. “I’m never going to live down the night we met, am I?”
“Not a chance.”
I sipped my merlot, not wanting to waste it, but I was so full from the humongous burger Drew had ordered me. Honestly, I couldn’t wait to get home and unzip my skirt, although I wasn’t about to admit that to Drew.
“So, back to my original question. Why are you so bitter about relationships?”
“I deal with divorces all day long. It’s a little hard to have a positive outlook when all you see is cheating, lying, stealing, and people who started out in love getting off on hurting each other.”
“So it’s because of your line of work. You didn’t have a bad relationship that soured you?”
Drew stared at me for a while. His thumb went to rub at the center of his bottom full bottom lip as he deliberated over his answer, and my eyes followed. Damn, he has great lips. I bet they would devour my mouth.
Luckily, the waitress came and interrupted my ogling.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked.
Drew looked to me. “Some dessert or anything?”
“I’m too full.”
He answered the waitress. “Just the check. Thank you.”
She took our plates, and when she left, there was a minute of awkward silence. He still hadn’t answered my question, and I thought maybe he was going to try to change the subject again. I was surprised when he answered.
“I’m divorced. Marriage lasted five years.”
“Wow. I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
Even though I could tell it took a lot of effort to share that much, and I knew I should probably leave well enough alone, I couldn’t help myself. “Did you have a long-distance relationship?”
“Not in a physical sense, no. That bitterness today was purely from my experience in divorces. The number-one reason people wind up in my office is they don’t spend time together.”
“I’ll admit, a lot of my counseling cases are similar. It’s not always a long-distance relationship like the one you heard me talking about today, but in the majority of my counseling, the couples don’t spend time together. They’re either working a lot and don’t make time for each other, or they’re still hanging on to the separate lives they had before they were married.”
“I bet our cases are very similar. Come to think of it, maybe you can hand out my business cards, for when your counseling doesn’t work.”
My eyes widened. “You’ve got to be joking?”
A slow smile spread across his face as he brought his beer to his lips. “I am.”
The waitress returned with the check, and Drew took out his wallet. I went to take out mine, and he stopped me. “Dinner’s on me. It’s my apology offering for being a dick today, remember?”
“Well, thank you. I hope you’re a dick often,” I joked. “I have ten grand to save up again.”
Drew stood and walked around to my chair, pulling it out as I stood. “Oh, that won’t be a problem. I’m pretty much a dick every day.”
The lock on my apartment door was tricky. I had to wiggle it around and pull the key in and out a few times before finding the exact right spot that allowed me to turn the bolt. Baldwin must have heard my keys jingling. His apartment door, next to mine, opened.
“Hey. I knocked earlier to see if you wanted to grab some dinner, but you weren’t home yet.”
“Oh. I had dinner with Drew.”
Baldwin took the keys from my hand. Somehow, he got the lock on the first try every time. The door opened, and he followed me inside. “Drew?”
“He’s the real tenant in the office I thought I rented. The one who’s letting me stay for a few months?”
Baldwin nodded. “You’re dating him now, too?”
I snorted. “No. He was a jerk today and made it up to me with dinner.”
“Why was he a jerk?”
I went into my bedroom to change and continued our conversation through the partially closed door.
“I guess he really wasn’t a jerk. We just have very different opinions on counseling relationships. He overheard me on a call and gave me his thoughts on how my advice to my patients would work out.”
After I’d slipped into some sweats and a T-shirt, I went out to the living room. Baldwin was sitting where he always sat when we hung out. I took the couch, and he sat on the oversized leather chair. Sometimes it made me feel like his patient.
“He shouldn’t be listening to your counseling sessions. They’re confidential.”
“It was my fault. I tend to yell when I’m on those video conferences, and I left my door open.”
“Maybe I should stop by the office?”
“For what?”