‘So, after today, we don’t speak?’ I ask bluntly.
His eyes widen in shock. ‘What?’
But I don’t let my guard down. I did that before and it backfired. ‘You’ve read my column, so you know I’ve still got over forty dates to go,’ I say. ‘So, this will end tonight.’
I look him dead in the eye, doing my best to replicate the deathly look Lina gave me. But, unlike me, he doesn’t cower. Unlike me, his mood stays high, lips twisting into a perplexed but somewhat amused smirk.
‘But you come back to London after, right?’ he asks, as if the whole thing solves itself.
I pause, taken aback. ‘Well, yeah. But only after I go on over forty more dates,’ I say again.
It should be simple – Lina made it seem so. Dates equal being unavailable for anything significant. And Nigel seems significant. He’s always been significant. There’s nothing more significant than a friend you might just have gained some feelings for. I risk another glance at him, prepared to meet his newly disappointed glare, but he’s still staring back at me, intrigued.
‘Is there a reason you’re trying to push me away?’ he asks. ‘Hidden disgust? Secret lover? Anything of the sort?’
I shake my head, stunned into silence by the way he’s taken this in his stride, joking around like I haven’t just exposed our lack of a future. He reaches his hand across the table, waiting forme to respond. I place my palm in his, warm and soft as he wraps his fingers tightly around mine.
‘I’ve waited seven years to ask you out. I can wait forty more dates,’ he says firmly.
My heart flutters, mouth dry while I frantically scramble to bite back my tears. The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of let-downs and misplaced feelings, and I didn’t realise just how badly I needed the validation.
He shuffles closer, scraping his stool across the floor until he’s next to me, and uses his finger to catch one small, escaped tear. His finger lingers on my cheek even after it’s gone, pressing against the skin, soft and supple as our eyes meet. I glance into his and note the different tones of brown and small specks of gold, eerily similar to a certain travel buddy I worked hard to forget. The one who’s had my back throughout the trip. The one who literally got me here today. The one who pressed his palm against my cheek before he kissed me, just like this.
‘Am,’ he says, his voice shaking.
His lips brush against mine, waiting for one small word to grant them access. I close my eyes to still the nerves, but it’s to no avail. They thrash about in my stomach, desperately pushing me forward.
‘Yes, Noah?’
I gasp and then freeze, my hand clasped over my mouth. He freezes too, eyebrows shooting all the way up his forehead. His eyes fix on my horrified face – my open jaw, my panic-stricken eyes and my hollow, stretched cheeks.
‘So... Noah, huh? Your friend from yesterday?’ he asks, leaning back.
My cheek grows cold as he peels his hand back from my skin.
He continues. ‘I did have a feeling when you pulled up with him, wearing his jacket. But I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt.’
‘It’s not like that,’ I mutter, still stunned.
‘Then what is it like? Because you just called me his name right before I was going to kiss you.’
He looks sheepish as he scans the crowd, nervously running his hand through his hair.
‘I am so sorry,’ I say.
‘Where is that man with our drinks?’ he asks, dodging me entirely as he surveys the crowd.
I grab his hand and squeeze, prompting his head to swivel back to face me.
‘I am so sorry, Noah.’ I gasp again. ‘Nigel! Oh, my God. I am so sorry. I meant Nigel.Nigel!’
I hold my breath as he looks me over, preparing for his outburst. But, to my surprise, it doesn’t come. Instead, he laughs. It starts off small but grows into a crescendo, bellowing out of him as he shakes his head in disbelief. I release a deep breath, shocked by the route he’s taken.
‘So, I’ve ruined this date,’ I say. ‘If you want to leave now, I understand. I’ll cover the minimum spend.’
I cringe as I promise it, thinking of my shallow pockets and the ‘credit-score update’ emails that I keep avoiding. But he continues to chuckle heartily, before motioning to call over the waiter.
‘Terrible date, yes, butgreatcatch-up with an old friend,’ he says. ‘And like I said, I’ve beendyingto try this place.’
