That shouldn’t hurt, because technically it’s true, I guess. This is all a part of keeping up the fake relationship ruse for Elise and Grant. Yet it was starting to feel like maybe... I don’t know. Like maybe it was turning into something more.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say, It could be real, but I don’t. Because what if I’m wrong?

Brenden made himself clear when he said “friends with benefits.” And if I tell him I’ve been starting to see this as more, will he think I took advantage of the situation—of him—somehow?

Our waiter appears at the table, filling our water glasses and saving me from my budding internal crisis. “Hello, gentlemen. My name is James, and I’ll be happy to serve you tonight. I’ve been told to make sure you order one of our finest bottles of wine, so let me know if you’d like any help with the selection.”

I give Brenden an imploring look, letting him take the lead here. I’m not sure if it was Grant who insisted we get an expensive bottle, or the restaurant’s management when they heard there was a credit card with no limit on file.

“You don’t like wine,” he says to me. Quietly, as if he doesn’t want to offend the waiter. Or maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass me. “You can order a beer, and I’ll just get a glass of something.”

I might not like wine, but fuck, I like him. So I say, “I’ll share a bottle with you. I have no clue what’s good though.”

He looks surprised for a second, then he smiles and turns to the waiter. “We’ll take a bottle of red please. Whatever you choose.”

The waiter grins, probably already anticipating his fat tip, which I can’t fault him for. “Excellent! And here are your menus.” He slides the large, laminated sheets at the edge of the table closer to us. “Take your time perusing, and then let me know if you have any questions. I’ll be right back with that wine.”

I pick up the menu, appreciating that it’s not one of those giant books with a million options. But when I catch some of the prices, I blanch. This dinner could cost as much as a lease payment on the diner.

“Wow,” Brenden says, reading his menu too. “Leave it to Elise and Grant to find the most expensive restaurant in this whole area.”

“Uh, yeah. Are we sure...”

“What?” he asks.

“I guess I’m not too eager to spend so much of someone else’s money,” I explain.