But with Elle I was so keenly aware of the fact that she was attracted to me – I wasn’t an idiot despite her not wanting to admit it out loud – yet it was undeniable that she didn’twantto be. Any attraction to me was taking place against her will and better judgement, and I could hardly blame her for that.
Maybe I was finding it hard because I was simultaneously trying to find my father. There were so many things goingaround my head. This slow reveal of who he really was. The places he’d been, the people he’d known, the impressions he’d left. Charming, a hit with the ladies, a lover of peanut butter, and, of course, he looked just like me. It could havebeenme they were describing, from those bare details. A man just like me who’d left me behind. My past and my future, some vicious cycle I was trapped in.
At work they were already labelling me that way. Nick was five years younger and thinking about getting married. Where was this trail going to lead me? What kind of man would I be faced with when I got to the end of it and was that the same person I would become if I kept up this life of never committing and putting on a charismatic front?
It was no real surprise Elle only wanted to be friends with me. It was a sensible decision. Agenerousdecision, given the circumstances. After all, I spent half my time proving her right that I could not turn the flirtatiousness off and the other half snapping at her because I was anxious. Or having a full blown panic attack.
Between telling her to shut up on the wheel while I hyperventilated, and cornering her after we got off, that outing had not been my finest hour. There was no denying I wanted her to throw out her rule book, but my immediate reaction to the kiss had been poor. In a more self-aware corner of my psyche, I had to question whether I’d focussed so hard on her kissing me in order to deflect from the depths of my embarrassment at having fallen apart on the Ferris wheel in front of her. Dick move.
Me:Of course you’re forgiven. It wasn’t your fault. I should’ve told you. I know you wouldn’t have forced me onto the wheel if you’d known. You haven’t ruined anything. And I’msorry too for coming on so strong afterwards. Will you accept my apology?
Her message came flying back to me straight away.
Elle:Yes! Consider it water under the bridge.
The water under our bridge was going to be a tsunami soon if we weren’t careful, but before I could respond, she sent another message through.
Elle:D’you want to head over to Brooklyn tomorrow?
Me:Let’s leave it until the weekend. Saturday morning if you’re free?
Elle:Actually, that’s perfect for me. I need to head over there anyway. Goodnight.
Me:Night.
Maybe if I couldn’t do romantic relationships, at least I could try to do this. I wanted to be a better person than came naturally and I supposed this summer was the perfect time to figure out if that was possible.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Elle
Ididn’t know what version of Stephen to expect on Saturday when he called at my apartment. Once my raging libido had calmed the other night, I’d felt pretty rotten. Maybe even like I was gas-lighting him a bit? I needed to stop giving him the wrong impression and then slapping his wrist when he flirted back. It wasn’t fair. So, I’d texted him an apology with a hope that we could be friends. I did enjoy his company. When he wasn’t being a jerk. And I’d noticed the non-jerk moments were stacking up.
Like apologising to me in return, even though I really didn’t think he needed to. And I know he’d wanted to insist on paying for the drinks but he’d seemed torn between chivalry and respecting my decision. He was also the kind of man that stepped in when his work colleague was being a pest to women, that helped moms on the subway, tipped generously, didn’t think twice before putting himself between me and a threatening pool cue, paid off his mom’s mortgage, and insisted on walking me home or coming to pick me up. For a banker and a player, he did a good impression of being a decent human being. Was the bar that low or was he going the extra mile? He really needn’t have come all the way over to me, when we were heading in the opposite direction to get to Brooklyn, but he said he didn’t mind and I appreciated the gesture. Even if he did turn up at an ungodly hour.
I opened my door to him, wondering if he was going to be friendly, or closed off, or flirtatious and found that, for the most part, he looked worn out. Dark smudges beneath his eyes.
‘You look tired. You should get more sleep, try a lie-in once in a while,’ I joked, letting him in.
‘Why, thank you.Youlook like you got plenty of sleep; do you have your own hedge or did you travel somewhere special?’
I laughed. Banter it was. The relief that he had genuinely put the incident at Coney Island behind us made my smile linger.
‘Miaow. Put those claws back in, kitty; all I need is a hairbrush.’ I rumpled my unbrushed hair and caught his eyes tracking the movement before he snapped them away.
‘I’ll make coffee,’ he offered.
‘You didn’t bring any with you?’
‘Sadly, the bakery I usually get my coffee from was shut today. Think you’ll be able to survive the extra ten minutes it’ll take for me to get some home-brewed into your veins?’
‘I will do my best.’ I went into my bedroom and shut the door over, the noise of his rummaging in my kitchen while I stripped out of my pyjamas with only one wall between us, making my hands shaky. I changed into a bright floral dress – because straight after going on our manhunt in Brooklyn Heights, I would be heading over to my parents in Flatbush for the family barbecue – and went back out, pulling my hair up into a high ponytail.
Stephen glanced over at me, dark eyes dancing from my hair to my dress, to my face and quickly averting again.
Maybe things weren’t going to bequiteso normal for us again.
‘What’s got you so tuckered out, then? You stay up all night working or were you entertaining some lucky lady?’Why, Elle, why?I immediately screamed at myself internally. Did I really want to know if he’d spent the night using those lips on another woman? The memory of how they felt had been haunting me. The tease of their minty taste, the brush of his beard, I had a glimpse of the sensations a full-on lip lock with him could potentially unleash and it had been tantalising. I knew I had to continue pretending I didn’t want it, but that didn’t mean I had to go asking for information that was going to make me jealous.
