We jumped apart.
Shit, were there cameras in here?Had he come to kick us out? The barman didn’t look particularly fazed, he was too busy concentrating on the tray he’d brought in. Of course, the drinks we’d ordered – about twenty-seven hours ago.
Carefully, he placed a pitcher of what looked like cola with mint-leaves floating in it on the table, then added two coasters, two glasses and two non-plastic straws. But instead of leaving, he poured the cola into the glasses, managing to spill ice cubes all over the table.
I snuck a glance at Nick, who was struggling to contain his laughter. He looked so relaxed; his hair was mussed and dimples framed a bright smile.
God, how could he go from sexy to adorable in five seconds?
Hang on a minute. Had I really just thought Nick was adorable? That wasn’t right. Tonight was supposed to be about getting something out of my system, while Simon worked Jess out of his.
The barman finally left, so I grabbed a glass and gulped it down. Anything was better than standing here with all these confusing feelings. The cola was ice-cold where Nick’s lips had been red-hot.
The karaoke machine moved on to a new random song. The opening penny whistle from ‘My Heart Will Go On’.
I froze.
Oh God. This was a sign.
Suddenly, I wasn’t confused anymore. I knew exactly what I had to do.
I slammed my glass onto the table. ‘I... I have to leave now.’
He looked stunned. ‘You’re leaving?’
I was so overcome with the need to get out I couldn’t even form a coherent excuse. ‘I’ve got a thing.’
‘A thing?’ I nodded, avoiding his eye. ‘That you have to do right now?’
I knew I sounded insane, but I didn’t care. ‘Afraid so.’
I turned to leave, but the gentle tug of his hand on my arm stopped me.
‘What’s going on, Zoë?’
I couldn’t bear how kind and patient his voice was. If only he’d sounded annoyed or flippant, I wouldn’t have had a problem flouncing out.
I finally turned to face him. ‘This has all been a terrible mistake.’
He smiled ruefully. ‘It felt pretty right to me.’
Why couldn’t he be an arsehole about this? I knew where I stood with him when we argued.
‘I’m just not interested in you. Sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.’
It took all my willpower not to bolt. Instead, I muttered a goodbye then strode out, forcing myself to hold my head high.
Once outside, I picked up my pace, getting to the tube in what felt like a matter of seconds.
I passed the barriers, flew down the escalators and arrived at the platform on autopilot. A blast of hot air announced a train was about to arrive.
The doors opened and I shuffled inside, finding a seat far from the other Sunday-evening travellers.
The motion of the train jolted me out of my stupor as I relived the past few minutes.
Sorry if I gave you the wrong idea...?
Jesus. How had Nick not laughed in my face? My tongue had been rammed down his throat. What other idea was he supposed to form from that?
