He takes my face in his hands and kisses me, a mix of relief and happiness with a perfect swipe of the tongue. We smile against each other’s lips, and we kiss again and again. “Are you okay?” I whisper.
“I am now.” He kisses me again.
“That was your first and last chance,” I murmur.
“Fair call.” His kiss deepens, and we forget where we are.
“Hey,” my boss calls. “She’s working.”
“I’ve got to go.” I smile as I try to step back.
Christopher holds my face to his as if unable to let me go. “Not yet.” He kisses me again, and I feel it to my bones. “What time do you finish?”
“Eight.”
“I’ll pick you up?”
“Okay.” I step back from him.
“We’ll go on a date?” he asks hopefully.
I smile. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats as he stares at me. “Okay . . .” He nods as if reassuring himself.
“You said that already.”
“Okay.” He frowns. “I did, didn’t I?” He steps backward into the cutlery stand. “Sorry,” he says to it before realizing it isn’t a person. He chuckles, embarrassed. “Eight?”
He’s nervous.
“Okay.” I laugh.
“That’s lots of okays,” he replies.
“Will you two knock it off?” my boss calls.
Christopher’s eyes hold mine, and I smile an over-the-top smile. “See you tonight.”
He turns and nearly skips out of the restaurant, and I proudly spin toward the kitchen.
He came back.
CHRISTOPHER
I walk at a quick pace down the street and glance at my watch. Four p. m.
Fuck.
I only have four hours.
“Where the fuck do you take a girl on a date to?” I think for a moment and then dial the only romantic person I know, Elliot.
“How’d you do?” he answers.
“She was surprisingly . . . forgiving.”
He laughs. “Good news.”
“I told her we’d go on a date tonight.”
“Good idea.”
“Was it?” I frown. “Because right now, romance is the last thing on my fucking mind.”
“Hmm. You need to get through the date part to get to the good part.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I snap. “I’ve got four hours to prepare so I can blow her socks off. What the fuck do I do?”
“Okay . . . um.” He thinks for a moment. “What do you want to do?”
“Not spend our first night in a shitty shared room, that’s for sure.”
“Book a hotel room.”
“She thinks I’m broke.”
“Tell her . . .” He thinks for a moment. “Tell her that your grandfather knows the owner and has some free-night coupons that he will never get to use, so he gave them to you.”
“Actually”-I nod as his plan rolls around in my head-“that’s not bad.”
“Then take her out for dinner.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But don’t drink too much, or else you will fuck up while having sex.”
I frown. “Define fuck up?”
“Be too rough.”
“That’s a fucking thing?” I gasp, horrified.
“Yes. That’s a thing. Nice girls who haven’t had sex in forever don’t fuck like you do. You need to train her up. Gentle and easy the first few rounds.”
“What?” I shriek. I’m so distracted that I bump into an old lady walking past. “I’m so sorry,” I call as I watch her hobble away.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Knocking over grannies. What do you fucking mean, gentle and easy? How do you fuck gentle and easy, and more importantly, why would anyone want to?” I begin to sweat. “I’m going to screw this up for sure.”
“It’s fine.”
I begin to freak out. “I don’t . . . this is a bad idea . . . I don’t know why. What the fuck was I thinking?” I cry.
“Calm down.”
“Calm down.” My eyes nearly pop from my head. “Calm down? You calm the fuck down,” I cry. “This is a disaster.”
“I’ll book a hotel for you.”
“Okay.” I stop on the spot and begin to pace. I inhale deeply as I try to calm myself. “Something nice . . . with a spa.”
“All right, I’ll text you the address.”
I imagine being naked in a spa bath with Hayden, and nerves simmer in my stomach.
Fuck.
I stop on the spot, the importance of this night suddenly now more evident than ever.
As if sensing my impending meltdown, Elliot says calmly, “It’s okay, buddy. You’ve got this. Just stay out of your head, and you’ll be fine.”
I nod.
“Don’t even think about it. I’ll text you the address of the hotel. Pack an overnight bag and go and pick her up from work like normal, and you’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” I nod. He’s right.
“Maybe swing past a pharmacy and pick up some lube.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Are you listening?”
“Yes,” I spit. “I’m not having this conversation with you.” I hang up in a rush.
I march up the stairs of the hostel and walk straight to my locker. I get out the gift I bought for Eddie. I’ve missed that little fucker.
I walk out to the bar area. He’s serving up the other end and doesn’t notice me. I slink onto a stool. He drifts in and out of languages like a pro, and I watch in awe. He turns and notices me, and his face lights up, and my stomach does a flip.
I frown. What was that?
“Hey.” He smiles.
“My man.” I laugh.
“Where the hell did you go?”
“I had some shit to do at home.” I pass him his gift. “I got you something.”
He stares at the baseball cap with wide eyes. It’s navy blue with the white letters NY on the front. “That stands for New York,” I tell him.
His mouth falls open, and it’s as if I have bestowed him with a sacred family jewel. “Oh my god,” he whispers. “This is incredible.” He passes it back to me. “But I can’t accept it. It’s too much.”
“I want you to have it.”
“You’ve already given me so much.”
“Put it on,” I demand.
He puts it on and bends down to look at his reflection in the shiny refrigerator doors. He smiles proudly. “How do I look?”
“Great.” I smile. His happiness is infectious.
Fuck, I love this kid.
“Thank you so much.” He puts his hand over mine on the bar, and I just want to hug him. But I won’t, because I’ll come off creepy, and he’s just a kid behind the bar that I shouldn’t want to hug.
“Miss Hazen.” He gasps.
“Yes, I’ll see her tonight.”
“She’s been waiting for you to come back.”
Thank god.
“I’m taking her somewhere special tonight.” My phone beeps with a text. Elliot.
Bella Donna
Two nights.
Shit, two nights. That’s a bit presumptuous, isn’t it? Who the hell can be gentle for two nights in a row?
Ugh, this is all . . .
I guess I’ll play it by ear. I could be in dumpsville tomorrow anyway. The spa bath will come in handy to drown myself.
There are people waiting for Eddie to serve them. “You want a beer?” he asks.
“Um.” I frown, and Elliot’s words come back to me. “No, I’m good. I’ll catch you later, buddy.”
He smiles. “Thanks for my hat. I’ll never take it off.”