Tom stretched his legs and leaned back against the couch cushions. He sighed in contentment, hands folded across his stomach.
“I don’t think I’ll need to eat for a week. That was amazing.”
“Thanks. Quick and easy, but tasty. There’s nothing like a good cheesy pizza.” Bailey stretched, well satisfied after the meal. The evening had been surprisingly relaxed, sharing some homemade pizzas and chatting while they ate. They hadn’t even bothered to sit at the small dining table, instead balancing plates on their knees as they sat around the coffee table. The conversation had flowed as freely as the beer, the lager no doubt relaxing them both and easing any tension from the evening. The last time Bailey remembered feeling so comfortable with someone on a first date was… well, never. But if he was honest with himself, there hadn’t been that many first dates, and the dates he’d had, he hadn’t exactly put himself out there. Dating felt too much like setting himself up for disappointment; much easier to keep things casual.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Bailey met Tom’s gaze, the concern evident in his warm brown eyes. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”
“Should I be worried?”
Bailey forced a smile to his face. “No, Just thinking about work tomorrow,” he lied.Just thinking how much I like spending time with you and how much it will hurt when this is over.
“Now I am worried.” Tom chuckled. “You’ve wined and dined me, but lost interest already. Instead you’d rather be thinking about work.”
Bailey straightened. “Shit. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that—”
“Relax, Bailey. I’m just pulling your leg. I know how hard it can be to switch off. I think part of me is always thinking about the coffee shop, of what needs to be done, what I need to do tomorrow, how the books are looking. It’s never-ending. So, tell me about your job.”
Bailey rolled his eyes, but at least he still had a job, June 30 having passed by without any big announcements at work. “You don’t want to hear about the call centre.”
“Sure I do.” Tom leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His face was open, his smile so genuine. “Was it something you always wanted to do?”
Bailey almost snorted his beer. “Hah! Not likely. I don’t know anyone who dreamed of growing up and becoming a customer service rep or a telemarketer.”
“You never know,” Tom said. “I’ve heard of worse jobs.”
“Yeah, well, that wasn’t me.” Bailey chuckled.
“So what did you want to be then? What was the big childhood dream?”
Bailey thought for a moment. It had been so long since he’d considered what he really wanted to do with his life. The memory of a dream he’d shared with Stuart rose unbidden. It was probably unattainable but had still been a good dream to have—something to plan for, to talk about, to look forward to, something to do together. God, Stuart had so much passion and could make Bailey believe almost anything could come true if he wanted it enough.
“Now you’re smiling. It must be good.”
“Oh, probably nothing like you’re thinking. My brother had these grand plans. He was going to break into professional football—the NRL—and I was going to become a physio. He’d earn the big bucks, and I’d keep him in tip-top shape.”
“I take it that didn’t happen?”
Bailey was conscious his smile had disappeared. He shook away the memories—you’d think he’d have come to terms with it by now. He met Tom’s eyes and swallowed past the lump in his throat. “No. My brother, Stuart…, he died.”
“Oh, Bailey, I’m so sorry.”
Tom looked devastated and Bailey rushed to reassure him. “Thanks. I’m okay. It was a few years ago now.”
“Can I ask what happened or is that too—”
“It was an accident. He was hit by a car when cycling. It was very quick. He didn’t suffer.”
“Jesus. That’s awful, such a horrible thing for you to have to go through.”
Bailey shrugged. Stuart’s death had devastated him. It had been just the beginning of everything going to shit in Bailey’s life, but he wasn’t going to go there, not on a first date, maybe never. He forced brightness into his voice. “I have a little sister. Her name’s Sarah. She’s amazing. She’s thirteen and started high school this year. What about you? Do you have any siblings?”
Tom nodded. “One of each. An older brother who lives in the UK. I only see him once a year when he and his family—he’s got a wife and two kids—come home for Christmas. And I have a sister. Anne is nineteen and on a gap year. She’s ‘finding herself.’” Tom made air quotes around the words.
Bailey laughed, his good mood returning as he listened to Tom talk about his family. “You’re not a fan of finding yourself, then?”
“Oh, no. I’m a huge fan of finding yourself. I sort of wish I’d taken the time to do a lot more of that before I launched into what I thought was my idea of the perfect career. But Anne’s concept of finding herself is taking a long overseas holiday on Mum and Dad’s dollar. I’m sure she’ll come home with no more idea of what she wants to do than before she left. At least she will have seen some of the world, I guess.”
