Mid-bite, I replied, “f**k no.”
“No?” He took a piece of bread and handed the basket to Dominick. “Why? Suddenly feeling … taken?”
“Ahhh.” I tossed my napkin at him. “I see where this is going.”
“Do you?”
“f**k, don’t you start with me too.” I got up from my chair, holding the wooden frame, and said, “I’m going to the head. When I return, no more Jo talk. Understood?”
I flipped them off when they laughed and stumbled toward the back of the restaurant in search of the restroom. Once I got inside, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I took it out, the screen showing a notification from i********: that Jo had posted a new photo.
At some point, I’d set those up.
And I never stopped them.
Why the f**k did I do that to myself?
The alcohol flowing through my body caused me to slide my
