“Yeah. I suppose. I couldn’t imagine dating someone ten years older than me right now. Jamison is four years older, and sometimes I feel like we have to find things in common because he’s just at a different place in his life. Ten years would be even crazier. Speaking of Jamison, we’d better get back out there. You didn’t actually have to pee, right?”

“I’m good.”

“Everything fine?” Jamison asked Christina as we sat back down at the table.

“Totally. Sorry we took so long. I had to cool Reese down. Her date tonight has her overheating.”

Oh no. No. No. NO! Why did she say that?

Arnie lit up, more than a little pleased to hear that. Angie nudged Fisher and grinned like she needed to urge him to be excited to hear that. But Fisher’s stony expression didn’t give that same happy vibe.

And what was I supposed to say? No. I wasn’t attracted to Arnie? That would have been a slap in the face to the guy who got us front row seats and was paying for dinner at an expensive restaurant.

So … with a shy grin, I sat down and didn’t confirm nor deny it.

The alcohol flowed nonstop over the next two hours. The food was ridiculously good. And the company wasn’t bad. Aside from my glass of ice water, I felt like a real adult on a date with the wrong guy.

With every sip of wine, Angie got more handsy with Fisher, and that made me remain idle when Arnie rested his arm on the back of my chair, squeezed my leg playfully, and whispered things in my ear. Some things I couldn’t understand because he’d had too much to drink, but other short phrases included things like “you look so hot tonight” or “I can’t stop staring at you.”

Those little things seemed to feed Fisher’s need to drink more too. By the time Arnie lazily signed for the meal, Jamison and I were the only sober ones at the table. I was glad he was being responsible for my friend.

“I’ll order a ride,” Fisher mumbled as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Good idea, babe.” Angie hugged his arm and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I can drive.” I shrugged.

“Yesss …” Arnie stood and held out his hand. “You can drive them home.” He nodded to Fisher and Angie. “Then you can drive me. And I’ll get you home in the morning.” He smiled like it was a genius idea.

“Fuck no …” Fisher spoke up, and I froze. Where was he going with his objection? Would he vomit the truth in his inebriated condition? “I told Rory I’d watch her. I can’t watch her at your house.”

“Babe.” Angie pinched his cheeks. “I don’t think you can watch anyone …” She giggled. “Except me.”