I groaned, then finally made the choice to just book it. Wasn't it better to arrive quickly rather than dress up and get there later than I already was?
It wasn't like I was wearing pyjamas or anything. Just sweats.
Oh, who was I kidding? It wasn't a date night outfit. But since the date slipped my mind, I'd forgotten to do laundry. This was one of the only clean outfits I had. Everything else was thrown in a wrinkly pile of dirty clothes in the hamper.
I swore under my breath. The sweats would have to do.
Feeling awful already, I splashed my face to freshen up and smoothed back my hair as I ran out the door.
"Don't get too crazy without me," I called to DJ Muffin on the way out.
Outside was crisp and cool, a typical autumn evening. I broke into a jog, trying to get there ASAP. The cold wind whipped across my face as I weaved through the people on the sidewalk. My heart rolled in sickthumps, both from exertion and guilt. I couldn't believe I forgot about our date. Even though I wasn't head-over-heels about Duncan like omegas were in romance shows on Netflix, he didn't deserve to be stood up by accident. Ugh, I was so scatterbrained.
Thankfully, most of the pedestrians saw me coming and got out of my way. Maybe they mistook my sweats as an actual exercise outfit instead of a guy who'd just jumped off the couch.
I finally arrived at the restaurant in an unfortunate sweat, since I jogged instead of walking so I'd arrive faster. I caught my breath and ran a hand through my hair to make it look somewhat presentable.
"Hi," I said to the hostess. "I'm here for a table for two at seven for Duncan?"
"Right this way."
I assumed we got an indoor table on this cool autumn evening, but the hostess led me to the patio. As the adrenaline and its warmth wore off, I was beginning to regret not bringing a jacket.
A string of golden fairy lights hung from the patio canopy, the only warmth in the air. As we passed other happily chatting patrons and the sound of clinking tableware, I saw Duncan at the end of the seating area.
He didn't look happy.
"There you are, sir," the hostess said, handing me a menu. "Do you two need a minute to order drinks?"
"Yes, please," Duncan told her in a clipped voice.
I gulped.
When she left, Duncan stared at me. "Nikolas, do you have any idea what time it is?"
Uh oh. He'd called me by my full name. Usually he only called me Niko, which I honestly didn't love, but it was better than knowing he was upset enough to say Nikolas.
"Erm, let me check," I said, pulling out my phone.
Except my phone wasn't there.
My heart dropped to my stomach. Shit. Had I forgotten it at home in my rush to leave?
"Sorry, I don't have my phone on me," I admitted.
Duncan rolled his eyes with a huff. "It's almost 7:20. You're late. Again."
I grimaced. He was right and I deserved his ire.
"I know, I'm sorry," I said.
"Are you?" Duncan asked sharply. "Because this isn't the first time this has happened."
I hung my head. "I know. I'm so sorry."
"And not only are you late, but you show up dressed like this?" Duncan spat, gesturing to my outfit. "Seriously, Niko, it's like you don't care at all. Why do I even put up with you?"
I shivered both from the cold and his words. I rubbed my arms and stared down at the empty table. I understood his frustration.
