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I put my phone down, smiling, flattered that he wanted to talk to me again.
Now I just have to wait until seven p.m. tomorrow. Argh! I’m excited and nervous in equal measure. But it’ll be fun, and at least with his brother and his girl there it’ll gives us time to get to know one another before things turn… intimate.
Oh my God. Now the nervousness is taking over the excitement. I’m never going to get to sleep tonight!
*
Seven p.m. the next day
I approach Red’s Rib Shack from the other side of the road, pause in a doorway, and stare at Kip.
He’s leaning against the wall not far from the door, looking at his phone in his left hand, his right in the pocket of his black trousers. He’s wearing a white dress shirt, and I can see that the inside of the collar, the placket, and the cuffs where he’s turned them back a couple of times are a silvery gray. The light breeze that’s blowing across the harbor is ruffling the longer hair on the top of his head. He’s wearing glasses, although he’s looking over the top of them at his phone, so he must be short-sighted.
Oh my God, he didn’t stand me up. I don’t know why I was so convinced he would. He messaged me this morning, while I was at breakfast, to ask my opinion of a fantasy book he’d heard about, and we’ve messaged on and off all day in between his meetings and while I walked around the zoo with Charlie, who’s been thrilled at the communication. It’s mostly been inconsequential stuff, books, gaming, music, our favorite bands. But at around four he said he had a meeting and wouldn’t be around for a while, and I haven’t heard from him since. And three hours is a long time to maintain one’s self-confidence.
But he’s here, and my pulse is now racing at light speed. Gathering my courage, I check the traffic, then cross the road to stand in front of him. He’s still looking at his phone, and I try to control my breathing as I wait for him to notice me.
He looks up then, straight at me, and we stare at each other for a moment. Then he slides his phone in his pocket and laughs. “I’m so sorry! I was just making sure you hadn’t messaged to say you weren’t coming.”
“I’m nervous,” I reply, “but I’m not crazy.”
He smiles at that. His brown eyes are full of warmth and a kind of lazy interest that gives me goosebumps. “Hello,” he says in a way that makes me tingle.
I blush. “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you,” he replies. “I’m glad you didn’t stand me up. Best present ever.”
I chuckle, and he smiles again and pushes off the wall. “My brother’s inside. Are you ready?”
I nod, and he walks to the door and opens it to let me through.
Trying to stay calm, I go into the restaurant, and he leads me through to a table on a small dais by the window. Two people are already sitting there, looking as if they’re trying not to laugh, so I get the feeling they were talking about us.
“Guys,” Kip says, “this is Alice. Alice, this is Saxon and Catie.”
My smile fades at the sight of the man sitting by the window. Although he’s dressed in a navy shirt and jeans, and he’s not wearing glasses, he’s the spitting image of Kip.
The girl next to him, who’s clearly pregnant, is wearing black trousers and a hot-pink top. In a soft Irish accent, she says, “They’re twins, not clones. I know, they didn’t tell me either.” She holds out her hand, and I laugh and shake it.
“Your profile pic,” I say to Kip, thinking about how his reflection hadn’t been wearing glasses. “It wasn’t a mirror!”
He grins, and Saxon gets to his feet. “It’s always fun to see people’s reactions to that photo. Pleased to meet you, Alice.” We shake hands, smiling.
Kip takes the seat by the window, opposite Saxon, and I slide off my coat and hang it over the back of the chair next to Kip, opposite Catie. After yesterday’s debacle, I decided I was going to wear something that made me feel comfortable and more myself, as I thought it might make me less nervous. I chose a cream sweater and dark jeans, and I’ve put my hair up in my usual scruffy bun. It hasn’t worked. I’m still nervous. But at least I don’t feel as if I’m acting tonight.
The waitress comes up with what looks like two Cokes and puts them in front of Saxon and Catie. She hands me a menu and asks if she can get us a drink.
“Catie’s pregnant,” Saxon says, “and it only seems polite for me not to drink when I’m with her, but please, you two have whatever you like.”
“Would you like a glass of wine?” Kip asks me.
“That would be nice,” I reply, thinking:oh my God yes please give me alcohol.
“Red, white, sparkling? Champagne?”
“Um, red please.”
“Any preference?”
