Bishop wanted to kick his own ass. He hadn’t tried to ignore Edison, he just didn’t want him meeting Royce. Fuck, why didn’t I introduce him myself? Bishop wouldn’t have described Eddie as a mere friend. He didn’t want to make love to his buddies. He finally found his voice and his balls. “Sorry. Um, Edison this Royce an old friend from my neighborhood.”
Royce turned slowly and narrowed his eyes at him, and Bishop knew it was about to be on. It didn’t take much to spark Royce’s fuse. “That’s a crappy way to introduce the man you’d planned to spend the rest of your life with.”
Bishop checked his reaction, adamant that Royce was not going to humiliate him. He had to get him the hell away from Edison. Royce didn’t deserve to be around him, and the last thing he wanted was for his nice guy to see the kind of dysfunctional relationship he’d once been in.
“That was a long time ago,” Bishop muttered. “It was good seeing you, Royce.”
“Ouch, Bishop.” Royce feigned hurt, even holding his hand over his heart. “That’s no way to treat a friend is it, Ed?”
“It’s just Edison,” Edison said politely, but Royce obviously ignored him, his eyes all over Bishop.
He clenched his jaw, trying his best to convey to Royce that he better keep his fat mouth shut and leave.
Royce shoved the arms of his jacket up to his elbows, then unhooked the middle button. “We were just about to sit at the bar when I saw you. Mind if we join you?” Royce glared at Edison.
Edison ran his hand over his lapel and sat up a bit taller. “Please. My Aunt Carlotta always says breaking bread with friends makes the food taste just a bit better.”
“I just bet she does,” Royce droned. He hadn’t actually waited for the okay to join them before he was already sitting in one of the other chairs. It was only then that Bishop noticed that Royce wasn’t alone. He was with the little twerp from his school group who Bishop had kept getting dirty sneers from; and it appeared he’d brought those same irritating expressions with him tonight. He sat his slim frame down in the last chair, shooting laser beams through his black-rimmed glasses at Royce, which he disregarded.
Edison continued to wear an inviting expression, but it was clear he wasn’t understanding what was going on. Royce and Bishop were not friends, and it was obvious. They weren’t anything anymore. He’d thought Royce had understood what goodbye meant.
“Hello, I’m Edison.” Edison stuck his hand out to the twerp, who barely touched it before he dropped Edison’s hand. Bishop wanted to reach over and grab the guy behind the neck, but he needed to stay cool or his evening was going to go south, fast.
“So, Bishop. I haven’t seen you in a while,” Royce said as if he was genuinely interested. “What you been up to?”
“Work,” Bishop mumbled. The waiter came and dropped off their drinks, then asked if Royce and his company wanted anything.
“I’ll have a mojito, top shelf, please,” Royce said, leaning back and crossing his legs as if he was a movie star. He lifted the menu, ignoring his friend’s protest.
“I just want water. We’re not staying,” the twerp urged but Royce didn’t bother acknowledging him. Bishop almost wanted to laugh. If that guy thought for one second that his wants were more important than Royce’s, then he must not know him well at all.
Royce waved in his friend’s direction. “This is Jason, he’s my study buddy. We were just taking a break.”
Is that what they’re called these days? Bishop liked fuckbuddy better. Had a nice ring to it. He took a long swig from his dark brew, drinking half the glass before setting it on the table. Edison’s eyes were on him, and Bishop didn’t like the uncomfortable expression on his face.
“Does anyone want to start with an appetizer?” the waitress asked, her intrigued gaze bouncing between the four of them.
“I’d like a bowl of the lobster bisque to start,” Edison said, when no one else chimed in.
“Hmm.” Royce stared quizzically at Bishop. “This is my first time here… can you recommend something, Bishop?”
Bishop damn near bit his tongue off, he was clenching his jaw so hard. He already knew what Royce was doing, exactly what he was afraid of. Taunting him.
“Actually, it’s Bishop’s first time here. I can practically write this menu myself I eat here so often.” Edison chuckled, though no one else did.
“I just bet you do,” Royce said condescendingly, disguising his rudeness behind his million-dollar smile. “But Bishop knows what I like.”
Their waitress was standing there with her pen poised over her notepad as they ping-ponged the weirdness back and forth. Bishop took another drink of his beer, raising it towards Carla. She nodded, getting the message. Edison cast his eyes to his menu when Bishop tried to look at him.