He doesn’t notice my reaction and continues normally, paying the air steward as he sets our drinks down on the trays with those tiny, flimsy airplane napkins. I try to ignore the heat rising to my cheeks at his touch, cracking open the can of Coke and pouring it over the ice. I blame the Swill Awards. His exquisite taste in olive oil, and the fact that he took the time to actually learn more about the brand, has thrown my whole opinion of him.
“Cheers,” he says enthusiastically, knocking his cup against mine. “To Niamh and Freddie and a fun weekend ahead.”
“Cheers,” I mumble, before taking a sip.
“So, are you going to tell me how it went seeing Matthew? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, although I will feel mildly disappointed having experienced all the buildup without any of the revelation.”
I smile into my cup. “It was fine. Sort of. I think.”
“Come on, I know there’s more to it than that.” He holds up his hands. “No judgment here. You’re talking to the guy who fell out of the kayak, remember?”
I sigh, placing my cup down on the tray and shifting to face him. “He insinuated that I was boring and I told him his shoes were the wrong color.”
As expected, Jamie laughs. “What a great put-down! Well done!”
“It’s a terrible put-down! Pathetic.”
“Nah, I like it.” He nods, looking impressed. “Besides, youwould never say anything really nasty. Were you perfectly civil and well-behaved the whole night, or did anything else exciting happen?”
“Nothing worth telling,” I say, thinking about Gabriel and blushing. “The shoes comment was the low point.”
“I’m sure it was a lot more cutting than you think. But do you ever get in an argument, only to think of thebestcomeback about an hour later? By which point it would be petty to bring it all up again?”
“Yes! All the time! I think everyone gets that, though, don’t they?”
“Yeah, I reckon. Still, some people are so quick on their feet. When I argue, my brain gets jumbled by the confrontation, and I say a load of nonsensical crap.”
“Better than my reaction, which is to shut down and worry out loud about random things that don’t even matter.”
“All the same, well done for seeing him and getting through it.” He smiles sincerely at me. “I know how scared you were about it.”
“Thanks.”
We fall into silence as I ponder the electric jolt of his hand on my arm. He’s so easy to talk to. Maybe that’s why I got the shudder? After a terrible first impression, we’ve connected, that’s all. My cheeks start burning again at the thought of his warm hand. Why am I even thinking so much about it?! What iswrongwith me?! Am I really so cold and isolated that someone touching my arm has reduced me to a shuddering mess?!
Jamie is not a good fit for me. This is perfectly obvious. I shouldn’t even beconsideringhim as… well, as anything. I mean, if Matthew and I were too different, then there is no way that I could be a match with someone who is late for almost everything and got a revenge tattoo of an eagle wearing a monocle. We areopposites.
Except, Isabelle did mention that she sat us next to eachother at her wedding because we had things in common? Obviously, there’s the drinks side of things—we may work for different companies but we are in the same, rather specific industry.
And when we’re casually chatting, we do end up agreeing on quite a few things. He’s fun to hang out with and there’s no denying that he’s hot in a rugged sort of way. He has gentle eyes and I really like the way he laughs. He throws his head back and wheezes slightly before letting loose and going full-on. It’s very infectious.
Wait. What was the question?
Oh my god, I was meant to be focusing on how we would never work, not in a million years! Not getting sidetracked by his infectious laugh! I’ve lost my head.
Right, I have to say something. Something that isn’t in any way sexy or leading or flirtatious. I have to forget about the jolt of electricity, because I amnotready for anything along those lines.
“My friend thought there was only one kind of quiche,” I blurt out in a blind panic.
Jamie looks thrown. “Sorry?”
Oh, bollocks. What have I done? It is a decidedly unsexy topic, so that’s something. I’m going to have to go with it now.
“My friend, Leo… it turns out he thought that quiche only came as quiche Lorraine. Weird, right?” I laugh nervously.
He raises his eyebrows in interest. “I can see how that would happen. Why don’t the other kinds have strange names, too? Why is it even called quiche Lorraine?”
“I’m not sure. But it’s a good point. Maybe I was too hard on him.”
