“I know.” He puts a hand on my arm. “But I’m glad. I’d been so stressed, so, I don’t know… pissed off at the world. And then I met you, and you reminded me that it’s good to laugh and to have fun.”
I think back to the grumpy guy I met in Starbucks, the man who was unpleasant to me in the hallway on Halloween. Hewasdamn uptight when I met him.
But he’s not that guy at all anymore. Now, he’s playful and cheeky and fun. If I think of our day out in the city, or the visit to Strand, or even just this evening, he’s a far cry from the guy I met. Is that really because ofme? Happiness flows through me, warm and bright, at the thought. And—God, I know I shouldn’t—I place my hand over his and squeeze, holding his gaze.
We stand there for a long moment in his kitchen, staring at each other, neither of us wanting to move. My blood is pumping hard, fast, and I try to ignore it, but when Michael draws his hand away, the intensity of my disappointment shocks me. It doesn’t matter what I tell myself. My body knows the truth.
He finds the cling film and I wrap up some turkey in silence, mentally berating myself. It’s my fault I’m in this position—I’mthe one who can’t sort their shit out here. And with every passing second, I feel the weight of my indecision pressing in on me, crowding out the kitchen, suffocating the air from my lungs.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt.
“For what?”
“For this whole thing.” I gesture vaguely and he looks puzzled. “For my writing, for us, for not…” I scan his face for a sign of understanding, when it occurs to me that maybe he’s not suffering in the same way that I am. This whole evening I’ve been torturing myself about it, but maybe he’s already moved on and all of this awkwardness is in my head.
“Alex, it’s okay.” He softens, taking a step closer. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“But am I imagining that things are weird? They feel weird.”
“Well, yeah. A little.”
I look up at him. “Why?”
“Because we like each other,” he says simply.
I bite my lip. “Do you… you know, do you still…”
“Of course. I can’t switch my feelings off. I’m just not acting on them.”
I let out a tormented groan. “What am I doing?” I mutter, more to myself than him. I rub my forehead in agitation and he reaches for my hand.
“Hey, it’s okay. We talked about waiting until you find out what’s happening with this job, and that’s the right thing to do.” He takes my other hand, and now he’s holding them both, giving me a gentle smile. My whole body is humming at his touch, and I gaze up at him, swallowing hard.
“You think so?”
He nods. “Do you remember our conversation in Beanie? You told me you spent your twenties not going after what you want, and now you are. I admire that.”
“And what if Igetit?”
“Well…” A line forms along his brow. “Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But I want to support you, Alex, and if that means… I don’t know, waiting until we can figure out how to make this work, then so be it.” His eyes fix on mine, serious and fiery. “Because when we finally do this, we are going to do it right.”
OhGod.
My heart rate skyrockets at the heat in his gaze, the promise in his words. I’m so breathless I can’t even bring myself to respond.
He stares at me for another second, then drops my hands with a chuckle. “Until then we will just be weird friends. Okay?”
I glance down at my hands, still tingling from being held in his. “Okay,” I murmur. He’s right; my writing is important to me. Why do I keep forgetting that? I sigh, stepping away from him. “I should probably go.”
Disappointment flits briefly across his face and he nods. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Thanks for inviting me tonight.” I wander to the front door and pull it open. “I had a great time.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you came.”
I turn back to say goodbye and it feels awkward. I’m not sure if I should lean in to hug him, or maybe I should shake his hand? No, that would be too formal. Perhaps a high-five? No, that would be silly. A wave?
But before I can do anything, he leans in and kisses me on the cheek. I feel the whisper of his beard against my skin and I’m immediately transported back to Rockefeller Center, when he pulled me close and kissed me underneath the Christmas tree. It’s so lovely I almost moan, and it takes all my strength not to throw myself against him and pin him to the wall.
