She rubs her hip. "Is that why this hurts?"
My gaze travels to the easy curve of her pelvis. I have to make an effort to drag my attention to her face if only so she doesn't think I'm a perv. "Can't say for certain, but could be. It was a slow-speed fall if that makes any difference."
Her face turns seven shades of scarlet. "Um, I'm gonna go hide in the bathroom until after you leave, if that's okay."
I put my hand on her arm but then pull it away. "If it's any consolation, I was a bit pissed myself. But I had an enjoyable evening. I haven't laughed that much in a long time."
Ophelia furrows her brow. "I'm getting sick of being the laughingstock all the time."
This time, I put my hand on her arm and leave it there. "I believe you misunderstood. I was definitely laughing with you, not at you. I'd never do that."
She shakes me off. "Why not? Everyone does." Ophelia looks at me for a long moment, her dark blue eyes stormy. If I'm not mistaken, they're filling with tears.
"I'm sorry that I appeared to be making fun of you. I'm not. Believe me, I'm not. I understand what it's like to be the butt of the joke." The paparazzi were relentless after the incident. I don't think I got on the internet for at least a month.
My mum had to drag me out of my room and force me to answer Tony's phone calls. I think he believed the hype and thought I was really a bad boy and that managing me would be lucrative for his career.
He's been quite disappointed at my hermit lifestyle.
No one ever believed that the story wasn't true. My mum and dad said they did, but I know Philip thought it was all my fault.
"And if it's any consolation, I had a bloody good evening. Probably one of my best in a very long time."
She sniffs. "You don't look like a loser. You're too hot to be one."
I bite the inside of my cheek to avoid laughing. I don't think that would be well-received. It's one benefit of the mask, though. It gives me a moment to reset my face. "You'd be surprised. I wouldn't mind getting a bite to eat," I say, to change the topic and hopefully bring a smile back to her face. Seafood would have been great, but I'll have plenty of time for that once I'm in Boston. "What won't make you feel pukey?"
Ophelia gazes up and off into the distance. "There's the South Street Diner. It's not too far from here, maybe a five or ten-minute walk. Is that okay?" I see her looking at my bag.
"Certainly. I believe I can handle that amount of physical exertion."
Her face reddens again. "I'm sorry. I mean, I guess I know that you're like a professional athlete and all—"
"Not 'like' a professional athlete. I actually am one."
"No, I mean, I know that. I … it's just … I'm used to being around normal people."
"I think you'll find I'm quite normal about most things. I even put my pants on one leg at a time." Her eyes crinkle, indicating I've earned a smile. We head out into the brisk November air, the evening already dark. Once outside, we both pull the masks off. Many of the buildings look dark as well. "It seems like most things are closed around here. Is that because of the pandemic?"
Ophelia, struggling to keep pace with me, says in a breathy voice, "Some, but it's Sunday. This is more of a business district, so there's a lot not open. But the diner is open 24-7. It's been in a lot of movies and is popular with the after-bar crowd."
I slow my pace a little for her. "That's interesting. I have to say, I don't get out exploring in Baltimore much. I don't have that much downtime and when I do, I like to volunteer at a rescue facility, similar to my mum and dad's. It's outside of the city though."
"So what you're saying is you're more of a country mouse than a city mouse."
Her phrasing confuses me, but I think I get the point. "I've never heard that before, but yes, I'd prefer to be in the wide-open spaces with nature. Sometimes I feel too closed in with all these buildings around. I need room to spread my wings."
It looks as if she shudders a bit. I wonder if she's cold. "How much farther?"
She points and I can see the large coffee cup on the roof of the building, neon lining the windows. It does look like every diner I've ever seen in a film. I pull out my phone to snap a picture. Then I turn it around to take a selfie. "Come on," I tilt my head.
"Really?" Ophelia asks.
"Yes, really. Come over here."
"I look terrible." She immediately begins swiping at her bangs.
"Nah, you look great. Come here."
