AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But I looked away.
Sure, if we were teenagers… but we were both grown-ups, and parents, and we had lives, difficult histories and big commitments. Too much was at stake to muddy the waters now. Kissing would bring all that up again and I wasn’t ready for that.
Yep, I was ready for a drink, though…
I spotted a bottle of merlot warming by the stove. ‘Oh, lovely, wine!” I cried, a little too brightly.
Letting go of Alex’s wrist, I managed to tear myself away from his side. I opened the bottle and poured us a glass each – there were lovely big glasses on the fold-down table too.
Alex shut off the tap, dried his hand and took the glass that I held out to him.
“Cheers,” he said, holding it up. “To…” He paused, looking suddenly vulnerable. What was going through his mind? To us? To true love? To new beginnings?’
“To a lovely evening,” I said quickly, and we chinked glasses.
We sat close to one another on the couch, talking and laughing, just enjoying each other’s company. Alex didn’t talk about it being a date again and I didn’t start announcing that we couldn’t be friends. Maybe we could – we were so easy in one another’s company tonight. Conversation flowed with the wine, and I felt completely relaxed and at home with him.
The fold-out table was so small that our knees touched underneath it as we ate and neither of us moved away. The lamb was pink and moist in the middle, and deliciously caramelized on the outside. The cute little potatoes were so full of flavor, the fennel complimented the lamb perfectly and the salty bite of the olives made the whole thing pop.
“You can add cooking to your list of talents,” I said to Alex, as I savored every bite. Along with football, sex…’ Flirting. So totally flirting. I didn’t check myself though. I was loving every moment.
“Well, good,” he said, a little shyly. “About the cooking and the sex.”
As we began to enjoy the chocolate torte from the tiny fridge (not homemade, he confessed) I found myself thinking that maybe we could be friends after all. We enjoyed each other’s company, and we made a good team.
The question was, did I want to be friends with him?
Another option struck me then. Maybe we could be friends with benefits…
We went up on top of the boat then, which was brimming with colorful flowering plants in pots. These were all woven with fairy lights too. Alex switched on the friendly colored lanterns above us and we sipped coffee and looked up at the stars.
I found myself leaning back into him at one point, and he put his arm around the front of me, pulling me close to him. We’d taken a couple of blankets up with us and he slung one over my legs.
That’s when I knew I was kidding myself. I didn’t want to be Alex’s friend, or his friend with benefits. Anything like that would just get messy because… I was in love with him.
I loved him.
“Alex, this whole evening has been wonderful,” I found myself saying. “The boat, the wine, the food… the company… but… look, we should talk about what’s going on here.” Maybe
I didn’t want to break the magic spell of the evening, but we couldn’t pretend this was something it wasn’t. We couldn’t be friends, or have casual hot nights together. We couldn’t be anything to each other.
Then, that voice was back – not in my head, but in my heart. Why can’t we? asked that quiet voice. Why can’t this just be love?
“I guess so,” Alex said heavily. He tipped me gently forward and got up, then pulled out a guitar hidden behind a tall plant pot. “But let me do the song.”
I couldn’t help laughing at that. “The song?” I repeated.
“I wrote you a song,” he said. Then he frowned in a really cute way. “But not in a Caleb way. Oh, God. I didn’t even think of that. I bet he wrote you loads of songs, and worse, he can actually sing and play the guitar, which I most definitely can’t.” He groaned. “Maybe the song was a bad idea, but I wanted to do something to show you how I feel…”
He looked so vulnerable and sweet and awkward and uncomfortable, all at once. My heart leapt in my chest, full of love for him. It was all I could do not to rush over and wrap him up in my arms. But instead, I said, “Caleb never wrote me a song.” Which was true. “All Caleb’s songs were about his existential crisis, paper bags blowing in the breeze, the futility of life and all that self-consumed shit.”
“Life isn’t futile, life is brilliant,” said Alex.
“I know,” I said. “Life is brilliant. And life is to be celebrated. And I want to hear my song, Alexander Harper.”
“Well, I’m warning you. I only know three chords and the song is terrible,” said Alex. “But I’ll sing it for you.”
And with that, he did. And, well, let’s just say it was a lovely thought, but he definitely needed to stick to what he was good at – tearing it up on the football field, at the stove and between the sheets. He finished with a final ear-splitting chorus of “We love one another, so we should be together,” and then looked at me uncertainly.
