Page 134 of Hate You More

He gives a dismissive swat of his hand. “That was years ago—pretty sure our last year in college was his peak. Not that he hasn’t always been popular with the ladies. We’ve all got eyes,” he adds. “The man is hot!”

“You’re not my type, H.”

Clara pats my arm. “You’re supposed to say you only have eyes for me these days.”

She doesn’t know how true that is.

“Anyway, lobster rolls.” He makes lobster claw motions with both hands. “Anything to do with your tattoo?” He turns to Clara. “Only he’d get away with something so bloody girly.”

“How do you—” Clara looks suddenly embarrassed.

“A lot of people have seen your husband naked,” he replies.

I put down my menu. Fucking unbelievable.

“Dude!” Hannah catches him a good one in the chest. “Read the room.”

“Oh, right.” He shoots Clara a bright smile. “Sorry, I just meant that your husband sent a naked photo to the group chat instead of to the girl he was trying to shag.”

“How is that any better?” Hannah demands.

“It’s fine,” Clara says with a smile I haven’t seen before. So this is what fake looks like on her. Is she jealous? Because I like the idea of that. “We all have pasts.”

Well, that wiped the smug right off my face. I don’t want to hear about her past. At all.

“I was quite impressed,” Hugh continues, oblivious. “It’s very pretty.”

Clara claps both hands to her mouth to smother a giggle, eyes wide and very blue over her dainty fingers. My ring sparkling on the fourth finger of her left hand. I get a kick out of seeing my ring on her hand. A bigger kick than I should.

“Pretty, huh?” I lean back in my chair as I examine him. “You wanna revisit that statement?”

“What?” Wot?

“You were quite impressed,” Hannah prompts. “Because it’s pretty, apparently.”

Hugo looks so hard at Hannah that he gives himself a double chin. “I was talking about his tattoo, not his todger, you deviants!”

Even Hannah laughs at this.

“Not that seeing his cock is a big thing,” he mutters, reaching for his wine.

“Again, do you wanna revisit that statement?”

“I’m saying it’s not weird that I have seen your cock.”

“I beg to differ,” Hannah puts in.

Hugh brings his wine to his mouth. “If you haven’t whipped your knob out in front of me, drunk at a party, I ask myself, are we even friends?”

“Apparently not.” Hannah quirks a brow.

“Not you, Hansy. Though I’m well acquainted with your massive set of balls.”

Turns out, my cock is an excellent icebreaker, and from there on in, the evening is effortless. Drinks are enjoyed, and food is ordered from a menu that’s kind of kitsch. We start with a whole lot of sharing plates, including spinach and artichoke dip, pizza rolls, a Caesar salad that’s more cheese than leaf, plus a serving of those caviar-topped lobster rolls. Clara declares these aren’t a patch on the ones served on Long Island.

Hugh orders steak frites, Hannah the salmon, and Clara says the Wagyu French dip sandwich is calling her name. I go for the rib eye, but we end up sharing, Clara dipping half her sandwich into the jus before feeding it to me.

Huge keeps us all laughing, regaling us with stories from the tech department, who’s staff don’t seem to be of this world. He is, as usual, animated, unaffected, and extremely funny.