Page 94 of The Singles Club

Oh no.

My face grew hot as the bloating became even more unbearable. I should have never eaten that pizza with onions. What was I thinking?

My stomach grumbled again.

Okay, just run to the bathroom, let it out. No big deal.

I grabbed the remote and hit pause. “Sorry, bathroom break.” I pushed myself off the couch, and a small toot cut through the silence.

I looked over at Justin to see if by some miracle he didn’t hear. It wasn’t that loud. He had his hand over his mouth, hiding a smile.

Oh. My.Gawd.

He heard. This was beyond humiliating.

I half ran into the bathroom and locked the door. I dropped my head into my palms as if hiding my face could make me disappear.

I’m not going back out there. How can I even look him in the eye again?

I’venevertooted in front of a guy. Ever.

Is that what people do in successful relationships? I mean, if two people live together it must happen at some point, right?

Okay. Relax. Think.

Check the medicine cabinet.

I opened the mirror, and to my relief, there was a bottle of Mylanta on the top shelf. I poured the recommended dosage in the cup and downed the disgusting, chalky liquid in one gulp. I rinsed out my mouth with water to rid of the taste.

Now what? Fake tired and go to bed?

No. I straightened up, trying to summon my courage.

I’m going to go back out there, grab something to drink, and then I’m going to sit down and watch the movie as if nothing had happened. By the end, Justin will probably forget about it.

That’s the plan, and I’m sticking to it.

I opened the door and headed into the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?” I called out to Justin.

“Club soda would be nice.”

I opted for waterwithoutbubbles. With head held high, yet avoiding all eye contact, I handed Justin his glass and sat down next to him.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I picked up the remote and pressed play.

After five more minutes into the movie, Justin set down his drink, grabbed the remote and paused it. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind doing me a favor…”

“What is it?” I asked.

He pointed his finger in my direction with a wide smile. “Pull my finger.”

I grabbed the couch pillow and hit him with it. “Not funny.”

He laughed. “No, it is pretty funny, actually.”

I crossed my arms. “Oh, like you’ve never accidentally tooted before.”