He felt it, too. I could see it by the way he looked at me. But he didn’t do anything, and I don’t know what to take from it. He seems like a confident man who gets what he wants. So why, if he felt what I did, did he not act on it?
Maybe I’m reading too much into things. After all, I didn’t act on it either and I could have. But I feared my robe would be little defence to his touch.
I’ve been out of the dating scene for far too long.
I’ve never really been in it, to begin with.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re flustered today?”
In the mirror’s reflection, I see Claire’s eyes boring through me. Even with her lids squinting as she applies her mascara, I can tell my friend is suspicious.
She knows there’s something wrong. She knew from the moment she stepped inside the house earlier. But I didn’t give her a chance to ask before I pulled her into the kitchen and placed a cocktail in her hand.
“I’ll explain later when I get my thoughts together,” I said.
I cross my legs, pulling at an imaginary thread in my dress.
“Alex was here.”
Claire jerks and pokes herself in the eye with her mascara stick. “Fuck. Ouch. It stings like a bitch.”
I jump from the bed, handing her a tissue from the box on my dresser. “Take these.”
She looks up at me from her good eye, her other watering as she places the tissue under it.
“I’m fine. Now go back to the part where you said Alex was here. Did something happen?” She’s out of breath from excitement.
“God, no,” I scoff. “Nothing like that. Garry asked him to collect his suit. But I had no idea he was calling and was standing there, wet, and in nothing but a robe.”
My face blushes furiously again. Just the thought makes me shiver.
Claire’s lips turn down, and I can tell she’s suppressing a laugh. “Great thinking from Garry.”
I roll my eyes.
“Is this why you’re in such a state? He called by to collect a suit. Sweetie, I know it’s been a long time, but if this is what’s getting you so heated, then you’re in bigger need than I thought.”
I take a deep breath, unsure of how to explain what happened between us. He was at my house for all of two minutes. How could I explain what he made me feel in those two minutes? Claire will think I’m crazy and delusional.
Unable to find the right words to make her understand, I shake my head.
“Ugh.” I throw my head back. “I don’t know how to explain it, Claire. He wasn’t even here for long, but something happened. Nothing physical, but I felt it.” I swirl the straw around in my drink. “Sorry, I’m not explaining this very well.”
My shoulders slump. The weight of today and all the confusion it brings, bearing too much.
“I mean, it’s crazy, right? Please tell me I’m mad because I hardly even know the guy. I’ve met him a handful of times, and even then, we shared nothing more than a few words. I have no idea how he makes me feel like this or act this way. It’s not me, Claire. I don’t recognize this nervous ball of energy I’ve turned into.”
When I look up again, her hands have fallen to her lap and her eyes are wide. At least one of her eyes is wide. The other looks involuntarily shut.
“You really like him.” She appears shocked by her own statement. “I knew there was something there. Even with one bad eye, I can see it.” She snorts through a giggle, patting the tissue under her eyelid. “But I didn’t realize how much you liked him. To be honest, it has been so long, I was getting worried you would never let another person in.”
Me too.
I never expected this rush of feelings, as if my body was slowly waking from a deep sleep.
Claire stands, takes her cocktail in her hand, and sits next to me on the bed. We both turn to look at each other, smiling, friends sharing a single moment we should have shared multiple times throughout the years. Claire has offloaded her stories throughout college and her dating life, but I never related to the bubbling of emotions when she met someone new. I only ever had it for Nick, and although I supported my friend, I never understood how she did it over and over again. But this is a first for me, and I suddenly feel shy. Child-like almost.
“And don’t be nervous. He’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in this dress.” Claire smiles, rubbing a supportive hand over the powder pink material of my knee-length, flowing dress. “Can I say one more thing?” She asks, staring down into her drink.
“Sure,” I say, feeling a little apprehensive by her change of tone.
“Of all the men you could have your pick of. I’m glad it’s Alex because he is so bloody gorgeous.” She fake cries, patting the tissue along her cheeks.
“I know.” I join in before we clink our glasses. “Cheers.”
***
An hour later and we’re both entering Geo’s—the swankiest new place in town. Two men open the door, allowing me and Claire to step inside. The large function room is bright, yet warm all at once. Luxurious golds caress every surface, and large tables scatter elegantly around the room with candelabras and fresh flower centrepieces. Servers don’t busy themselves as they stroll around with hors d’oeuvres and champagne. Instead, they are calmly moving from person to person, heads held high in the air.
If this is the engagement party, the wedding is going to be a Hollywood affair.
My eyes land on Garry. His hand rests on Sally’s back as they chat to a group of guests. The pint glass of beer he holds seems oddly out of place in somewhere so upmarket.
Claire leans in towards me. “How uncomfortable do you think he is?”
“Oh, he looks painfully itchy.”
We giggle as we make our way down the steps and into the open hall. I say a silent thank you when I don’t trip.
Tonight, I’m wearing heels. Me and heels always end up tangled around each other after I fall with the grace of a baby elephant. But not tonight. I’ve strapped myself extra tight into these bad boys.
Claire reaches out and grabs two glasses of champagne from a server, handing one to me. We sway to the soft music played by a jazz band. It’s a far cry from the sweaty nightclubs we used to spend our nights in.
I don’t think my usual dress and ankle boots would fit in here. Instead, my soft-pink velvet dress falls to my knees, and the sweetheart neckline sweeps across my chest, exposing my shoulders. I feel good in my skin, and I embrace it because it isn’t a regular occurrence. And apart from the strange tingle in the pit of my stomach, I am comfortable. Or maybe it’s the effect of a few sips of champagne and a body heated in anticipation.
Garry spots us from across the room, his head bobbing above a sea of guests, and he does a silly dance as he approaches us. He throws his eyes exaggeratedly as if to say, ‘have you seen this place?’
I’ve been trying to get a reservation here for months. Sally’s family is wealthier than I thought, considering they’ve reserved the entire restaurant.
“Ladies, you both look ravishing.” He takes us both into a hug.
“As do you.” I wink, adjusting his crooked tie.
“You’re marrying well, Garry,” Claire gushes, her eyes wandering around the room.
“And she also happens to be absolutely gorgeous.” He sighs, looking back at Sally, who is still speaking to a huddle of people.
She’s a social butterfly and looks stunning in a red, one-shoulder cocktail dress.
I look at Claire, both of our noses scrunching up with a wide smile. He’s adorable when he speaks about Sally. The man is infatuated, and it’s so beautiful to watch.
For a little while, Garry escorts us around the room, introducing us to his soon-to-be in-laws and family friends. My mouth is dry from speaking and my cheeks twitch from smiling. Garry is an only child, and apart from his parents, we are all the family he has, and I hope we are making a good impression. He’s got close friends, but the three of us have been together through everything. We may not share blo
od, but we’re family.
“When Caleb finally decides he wants to marry my ass, I want to have my engagement party here.” Claire takes another sip from her empty glass.
“You’ve been dating for a few months. I like this one. Don’t scare him,” I plead.
Claire had a habit of falling for the stereotypical bad guy. She punished herself repeatedly, swearing they would change. They never did, and it always ended with her heart in tatters. Caleb is a police officer in the next town over, and he’s a sweetheart. They’re good together. He treats her like the queen she is, and I know she loves him. But hell will freeze over the day she gushes about him.
“Yeah,” she drawls, “I got a good one.” I don’t ruin it by teasing her. It’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard her say about him. “Looking for someone?” She eyes me, her amusement obvious in her tone.
Childishly, I stick out my tongue. I must have been scanning the room.
I need a drink, and not to drench my sandpaper tongue, but because my shoulders suddenly knot, noting I still haven’t seen Alex. And the volume of disappointment balls in my chest. Maybe he couldn’t make it.
I know feeling this way is ridiculous, but dammit, I can’t help it.
After Garry provides us both with a refill of our drinks, we make our way onto the spacious balcony and seat ourselves in the cushioned chairs. Even the balcony is fancy, with mosaic marble tiles on both the floor and railing.
I appreciate the fresh air on my skin. It eases the burning in my lungs, and the twinkle of the town lights is calming.
I’ll see Alex again. Tonight, I get to be with my friends and enjoy a celebration. God knows we have been through our fair share of bad times. So, there are no better people to embrace a celebration and know exactly how precious it is.
“We’re so happy for you, Garry,” Claire says, patting his knee.
“I’m glad you two are here with me.” His soft smile turns sorrowful, and we all glance towards the empty chair at our table.
“I was thinking about him last night,” Garry continues. “Sally and I were going over details. Most of which went completely over my head, but she started talking about bridesmaids and groomsmen.” He looks down at his beer. “Nick would have been my best man if he was here.”
A painful lump forms in my throat. How handsome he would have been in a suit.
“Probably planning a crazy bachelor party.” Claire giggles.
“He would be so happy for you, Garry. Most things in life, I try to imagine what Nick would think and what his opinion would be, but I know, he would be so proud of you.”
Garry does that thing men sometimes do when they cry and try to hide it. He coughs, clearing his throat, and runs his hand roughly over his face.
It’s nice to think of Nick in such a way, to imagine what he would do if he were with us. It’s sad and painful, but there is something beautiful about letting him live on in our memories.
As they stand to go back inside, I excuse myself to stay. I need a moment. Talking about Nick always takes a minute to process. They understand, as they always do.
Family, you see.
I lean my arms over the metal railing, enjoying the warm breeze of the summer evening. It isn’t quite dark yet, but the town lights gleam and flicker, and I can still see the horizon. The last of the sunlight dances on the ocean far away.
For a long second, when I close my eyes and focus hard enough, I can smell him, and the warmth reminds me of him, caressing over me with comfort.
I hear the door open onto the balcony, and I shut my eyes harder, clinging onto the feeling, afraid because it is slipping away.
Nick is slipping away.
“There you are.”
His voice.
It takes only his voice, and Nick’s imaginary warmth is replaced by his very real one.
I expected when I saw him again to go back to the nervous-wreck I was today, but only calm washes over me, as if his voice has brought me relief, I didn’t know I needed. As if his voice alone can wrap around me and mend whatever is broken.
When I turn around, I see his eyes visibly widen, and I can’t help the smile curving on my lips.
“Mandy, you look…” He stops, shaking his head. “Stunning,” he finishes.
“Thank you.”
I want to tell him how gorgeous he looks in his navy slacks and how his broad shoulders fill out his white dress shirt perfectly. And with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, I imagine his arms wrapped around my waist, but I bite my tongue with hopes I don’t embarrass myself further today.
He slowly runs a hand through his hair, his posture straightening to stand tall again like it will grant him back his composure.
“And I thought the robe would be difficult to beat,” he teases, strolling to my side.
I visibly cringe, shuddering.
“Mind if I join you?” He gestures towards the railing.
“Of course not,” I answer, hoping I don’t sound too eager.
“We seem to bump into each other quite a lot, and I know very little about you. Mind if I ask some questions?” He raises an eyebrow, looking down at me with those irresistible eyes of his.
Breathe, Mandy.
“Do you interview all company you keep?”
“Only the ones I’d like to get to know.”
His voice is playful, but I’m sure my heart has stopped beating.
“Okay, but only if I get to do the same?”
He leans his elbows back on the railing, crossing his legs at the ankle. “Well, it wouldn’t be any fun doing it on my own.”
I’m not sure if he meant it to sound so flirty, but it did something strange to my stomach, like a ball of heat unwinding and rushing down my thighs. I like flirty Alex. He’s fun and Christ, this man is the sexiest thing I’ve ever set eyes on.
“I’ll go first.” He crosses his arms over his chest, and his eyes roll left to right, brooding. “What made you choose to teach?” he finally asks.
I ponder telling him the genuine answer. It’s true, I love children and have wanted to be a teacher since I was just a kid myself, but my past makes me search the faces of the children in my classroom.
But I know better than to tell him that. He’ll jump over the balcony to get away. So, I stick to the original story.
“I was the kid who always wanted to be a teacher when they grew up.” I shrug. It doesn’t sound very interesting, but it’s the bones of it.
“There has to be more.” His eyes narrow on me, and my train of thought passes me by again.
Am I that easy to read?
“Surely, if you’ve wanted to teach since you were young, it’s a passion?”
I exhale, thankful this is his line of questioning.
“It is,” I agree. “There’s something amazing about getting a group of kids at the start of the school year and seeing how much they progress. I’m in a privileged position, and I get to nurture their talents and build their confidence. They trust me with their lives, as do their parents. And I love each one of them. They drive me around the bend sometimes, but they say the funniest things. And when they’re not sticking crayons up their nose, they’re quite enjoyable to be around.”
He laughs then. And his laugh makes my knees buckle as if caressing them with hot chocolate. It pours over me in waves. I hold on to the railing, needing something to steady myself.
“That’s more what I was looking for.”
“Me next.” I tilt my head, disappointed I said anything because he stops laughing.
I never want him to stop laughing.
He nods in silent agreement.
“Same question. Sally said you built her parents’ house. What made you choose construction?”
“My father.” He doesn’t have to think about his answer. “My father has been in the construction business his entire life and started out on his own when I was a teenager. It was a small business, but successful. I went to university. I met Sally’s brother there. And I got
my master’s in architecture.”
My eyes broaden. I wasn’t expecting the last part.
“I’d always loved design, but when it came to it, I also loved building as much. So, after getting a job as an architect and getting some savings together, I propositioned my father about expanding his business and doing it together. I loved architecture, but I wanted to get down and dirty too.”
Alex, down and dirty. I like the image too much.
Focus, Mandy.
“I wanted to build what I designed,” he continues. “Five years ago, we started Hale Construction, and it worked out.”
I wait for him to say more. To tell me how successful the company has been because although I know little about construction—actually, I know nothing. I managed to hang my picture frames. I know enough to know Hale Construction is no longer a small family business. I’ve seen their logo displayed on most construction sites in town and far outside it.
But he says no more. He doesn’t boast or try to impress me with how successful he has been in his business endeavours. He’s humble.
I like that.
I like Alex.
I like Alex and the way he is looking at me.
I like Alex, and the way he is looking at me, and how his eyes narrow.
Shit.
I haven’t said anything. I’m gawking at him.
Again.
“Do you enjoy working with your dad?”
It’s a pathetic recovery, but I have to say something before he thinks I’m mute.
“The extra question is going to cost you.” He smirks and I liquify.
What is he doing to me?
“Just answer the question.” I want to know what I’ll have to pay for that question with.
A kiss?
I hope so.
I will gladly change all my currency to kisses from here on out.
I lean back on the railing next to him, but I stand too close because my skin burns when it touches his.
Focus.
And breathe.
Don’t forget to breathe.
He looks down at me, and I feel meek again. Like he can scoop me up.
I raise my brow and nudge him, hoping it will give him the hint to answer my question.
Losing Love (What Will Be Book Series) Page 6
