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We cross the street and buy a coffee from a bakery. We get it to go so we can continue walking and enjoying the late April day.
I notice he watches me in a protective way. He steps closer when people pass us on the sidewalk as if to guard me. He held his hand in front of me when I was about to step into the crosswalk and a car ran the red light.
“Do you mind if I ask you something personal?” he asks.
He makes me feel safe. So when he wants to know something, I feel secure in sharing myself with him. “Not at all.”
“What’s up with Jim’s family? From what you’ve told me and from the funeral, I gather you didn’t get along?”
I stop to admire the necklaces and earrings in the window of a shop. Even though I don’t like the topic, I’ll answer anyway because I’m not the cause of the downfall in that relationship. I say this to myself a lot to counteract all the passive-aggressive comments Cherry used to utter under her breath. One day I hope the negativity from back then won’t reside in my head any longer.
“It wasn’t that we didn’t get along,” I say. “It was more that I wasn’t the one they wanted their son to marry. I’m not from their world, and I didn’t fit in, like ever, even when I tried. And trust me, I tried.”
“If you have to try that hard, then it’s not worth it. They’re not worth the effort.”
“I was in love.” I shrug as we walk on, tossing my cup in a nearby trashcan.
“Love makes us do stupid things. The old saying is true. Love is blind.”
“You too, huh?” I nudge him in the ribs.
“A story like that requires heavy alcohol, not coffee.”
I’m enjoying our time together too much to upset the vibe. I smile in sympathy. Understanding not wanting to revisit old heartache, I don’t push. “You’re not like most guys I’ve met here. Why are you so nice, Charlie?”
“What, you don’t know any nice guys in Manhattan?”
I can tell he’s teasing, but he truly doesn’t understand how rare a man he is. “I know one.” I want to touch him again, even if just in a teasing way, but I shove my hands in my pockets to restrain myself.
“You probably say that to all the guys.”
My smile grows, and I feel happy. “Ha! Yep, my charm works every time.”
“I bet it does. I just bet it does. So it’s Saturday night. No hot date?”
“He’s hot, but more of the platonic kind,” I say, kind of wishing we hadn’t decided to stay just friends.
“Come over here. I want to show you how platonic I can be.”
“Who says I was talking about you?”
He doesn’t shrug or slump. He’s all cocky and confident again. “I think I’m the hottest platonic friend you know, excluding last night, of course.”
Yep, there was nothing platonic about last night. “Is that so?”
“It most certainly is,” he says, holding his hand out. “Now c’mere.”
“You sure do hold yourself in high regard.” I walk toward him, taking hold of his hand. “Can I confess something?”
“Confess away.”
“Is it sad that last night,” I say, peeking over at him, “was the most action I’ve seen in a long time, and that was with a friend?”
Squeezing my hand before wrapping his arm around my shoulders, he laughs. “Yes. Actually, that is one of the saddest things I’ve heard in a while.”
I attempt to elbow him in the ribs. “Ha ha. Where’s your hot date, then, show-off?”
He blocks the hit, holding me even tighter against him to keep me from escaping. “She’s right here.”
Smiling, I lean my head on his shoulder. While I love the feeling of being in his arms again, I’m uncomfortable with the swirling emotions he evokes, so I change the subject. “I’m still hungry, are you?”
“You devoured half a pizza, and I don’t know how many cupcakes earlier. That wasn’t enough?” He’s back to teasing, letting me know we’re good. As I look up at him, his eyes are blue and happy, and that makes me giggle again. “You want to order something at your place?”
“No, let’s stay out.”
“Come on. I’ll let you take me out for some grub.”
“You’ll let me?” He winks, laughing. “Fine,” he says, rolling his eyes with a sly grin. “I’ll buy. By the way, this act of yours is so transparent, Ms. Barrow.”
“What act would that be?” I ask, raising my eyebrow at him.
“You just want to go out so you can show off your hot platonic date.”
Now that makes me really laugh. “You always see right through me, Charlie.” That’s truer than I’d like to admit.
The weather is perfect, and we are friends again. I don’t think this night can get any better until it does—with one simple gesture. He pulls me closer until I’m as close as I can get to him. I wrap my arm around his middle, and I don’t fight this feeling of security he gives me. I revel in it.
