Bad Taste (Part I) // Colby Brock

68 - Rebecca

          Colby pulled in at Tender Greens shortly after. We had memories here, though they weren't entirely good. This was the place he told me he couldn't do the girlfriend thing, but now we were arriving and he had confirmed that I was his girlfriend. He'd asked, even.

I looked at him across the seat, smiling. He was trying not to look at me. "What a hopeless romantic you are," I teased as I squeezed his hand.

"I'm not hopeless or romantic," he said quietly, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself instead of me, "but I am craving Tender Greens."

"I'm always craving Tender Greens."

Colby smiled to himself as he climbed out of the car and circled to my side. I took only my phone from my backpack, accepting his help in the form of his hand. He intertwined our fingers instantly and shut his door.

"I wonder if that slut waitress is still here."

He snorted. "Probably."

I smirked. "I'm always in the mood for a fist fight too." Part of me was dead serious. If she looked at Colby in the wrong way, I knew I wouldn't be able to help myself. And now I could assert my dominance just by saying 'I'm his girlfriend'.

I was Colby's girlfriend.

Colby led me inside, still holding my hand. There was a sense of pride about the way he was walking beside me, like he didn't care now who looked at him. It was breathtaking, and so different I thought he was a different person entirely for a split second. He spoke to the host — a young male, so Colby didn't like him for looking at me just once.

We were led to a table just a couple away from where we had gone last time. Colby sat next to me rather than across from me and blatantly laid his arm over my shoulders. Where his hand hung down, I reached my hand up to meet, our fingers locked like they always were.

The waitress was an older woman, so I didn't even look at her as she took our orders and walked away. And then we were left alone to our own devices.

Of all the topics we could have discussed, I heard a voice in the booth behind us say something about cows, and I couldn't help myself. "I know lots of cows."

Colby smiled, shaking his head. "Who's an example?" he asked.

"My old headmaster. She was a bigger cow than fucking Aunt Bessie."

Colby snorted and facepalmed as he kept laughing next to me. I was holding it in.

"I'm serious. Some of the rules were literally ridiculous."

"I thought you were going to say the waitress last time was a cow," Colby admitted, barely nodding over my shoulder. I didn't turn around: I didn't want to ruin my good mood. "I saw a cow in person once. It was behind an electric fence and I touched it... the fence, I mean."

"Why did you touch it?"

"Because I was told to." Colby shrugged. "I was... different, then. Not an asshole, for starts."

I pretended to turn my face away from him as I crossed my arms across my chest. "I wouldn't have liked to meet him, then."

Colby kissed my cheek. "Probably not. He was lanky and pretty useless. Definitely couldn't punch one of his friends in the face for calling his girl princess."

I smirked and turned back to him. "Right, because that was totally necessary." I paused. "That sounds sarcastic, it's not. I was going to punch him myself if you hadn't."

"You didn't even hear half the shit they said, either," Colby pointed out, sighing.

I frowned at him to explain.

"I have... good hearing, I guess and I'm good at reading lips."

"Hm," I said, not believing him. I decided to test him as I mouthed, 'You're soft.'

He answered by playfully shoving me across the bench we sat on. But the look on his face proved my little statement: he had very, very suddenly gone soft for me. And I liked it.

"I like this," I said, motioning between us. "Do you think we can make it last?"

"As long as neither of us pisses the other off, yes."

We both knew that it wouldn't take long for that to happen, but we let that issue stay under our noses as we started to talk about the cows again for a short while. Colby told me a lot in little anecdotes that built his character for me. I heard about him and Sam exploring and exploring and exploring, and how he saw it as an addiction more than a hobby. And when he broke the addiction, he went through a change — a big change that made him the guy he is today.

There was so much more I wanted to know about him while we were both still in a good place, but the waitress came over with the food. She smiled at us warmly and drifted away as fast as she had arrived.

We both dug in at the same time, eager to relieve our cravings. I found myself eating probably a little too fast, but I couldn't help myself. Colby seemed to eat just as quickly as I did right next to me, making my competitive side come out a little. I wanted to finish mine before he did. In my head, I made up the prizes.

If I finished eating first, we would go to his place, because I wanted to sleep in his bed. If he finished eating first, we would go to my place, because I guessed he'd want to sleep in my bed too for my scent.

That was the weird thing about us: constantly concentrating on scents.

Regardless, I finished first.