Chapter Eight

“So, tell me a little more about your boss,” Tyler said as we waited for our food at a little restaurant around the corner from our apartment.

After surprising me at work, he’d suggested we splurge on a night out, just the two of us.

I didn’t really consider it splurging when we ate out practically every night of the week, but I didn’t tell him that. Nonetheless, it was a sweet gesture.

“There’s not much to tell, honestly,” I answered, fiddling with the napkin in my lap.

The lighting was low, mostly candles and a few lamps to help out the waiters. Tyler had said it was supposed to be romantic, but I couldn’t see a damn thing. Restaurants like this didn’t exist in the small towns of Nebraska. The closest thing to romance Tyler and I had while growing up was a trip to the Dairy Queen to share a chocolate malt.

Sitting here, across from that same boy I used to make those trips to the ice cream parlor with, was slightly overwhelming. I felt like I’d gone from zero to sixty in a matter of minutes even though it had actually been a couple weeks now since I’d left the Midwest.

Sadly, I didn’t think Friends had truly prepared me for life in the Big Apple.

“Oh, come on, you have to know the guy somewhat. I mean, well enough to give him a private massage in his office.”

My eyes jerked up in surprise. “Is that what this is all about? You took me out to a fancy dinner, so you could what? Give me the third degree about my boss?”

He deflated instantly, his shoulders slumping, as he let out a sigh. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. But I won’t deny that it bothered me to walk in and see your hands all over him.”

My hands tightened around the napkin in my lap.

“First of all,” I began, speaking softly in an effort not to be overheard, “my hands were not all over him. And, second, don’t you trust me? Even a little? We’ve been together forever, Tyler, and most of that time has been spent apart. Do you think, after all that separation, I would suddenly decide that now would be a great time to cheat on you?”

“No, of course not. And you’re right. I do trust you. It’s just… I don’t trust guys like him, especially knowing he hit on you in that club,” he said, shaking his head.