The First Date: A heartwarming and laugh out loud romantic comedy book that will make you feel happy

by Zara Stoneley

  I swallow hard and I know my lips have parted, I know I can’t stop myself from leaning in. But I can’t speak, I can barely nod.

  And then he does.

  He kisses me.

  The contact is so gentle, so light at first it is more of a caress than a kiss.

  His fingers cradle my cheek.

  His body is warm against mine.

  I’m holding my breath, waiting in case he pulls back. But he doesn’t. His teeth tease at my bottom lip, tentative at first then more demanding. And then his mouth covers mine properly.

  It can only have lasted seconds, a minute at most, but I feel dazed.

  I run my fingers through my hair and blink. His eyes are dark.

  ‘Oh Rosie.’ His voice is husky as he strokes his thumb over my lips, then moves away. He shakes his head. ‘You do know this will never work, don’t you? It can’t, not properly, not long—’

  ‘It’ll do for now,’ I say, at the same time as my heart clunks down to my feet. ‘For today.’ I straighten my clothes and avoid looking at him. Because I don’t want him to see inside my head. I don’t want him to realise that I wanted that to be so much more than just a kiss. I don’t want him to see just how shaken up I am.

  ‘Good.’ His voice is soft. ‘You deserve the best you know.’

  Chapter 21

  You know that ‘Gavin won’t be here’ line? Not true. Gavin is the second person I see when we wander into Gemma’s back garden the next day for the barbecue.

  The first person is her husband, Dan, who puts out a delaying arm and says, ‘You’re not going to like this.’

  I don’t. Gavin-Gabe is no longer adorned with a toddler and a pram, he now has jeans, a T-shirt with the slogan ‘No ketchup, just sauce’ and a beer. What a dick.

  ‘He turned up on his own five minutes ago, says he left Linda at home with a crying baby and just fancied a beer and a break. He didn’t realise we’d have company.’

  ‘I can help with the breaking part.’ I realise I am growling through gritted teeth. ‘Will you hate me for ever if I go and punch one of your guests?’ I say to Dan. ‘Hi, by the way, I’m Rosie.’

  ‘I heard you were direct,’ says Dan, smiling. Shaking my hand.

  I look at Noah, who holds his hands up, ‘not guilty, must have been Gemma!’

  ‘Feel free.’ Dan waves us through. ‘He denied everything; in fact he laughed in my face and Gemma has been seething ever since. He did this “Tinder? Not been on it since I met the woman of my dreams, must be an old account that’s somehow popped up” thing.’

  ‘I’ll give him old account!’

  ‘Be gentle, Rosie.’ Noah looks concerned. ‘It’s not him I’m worried about, it’s you. Don’t let him get to you.’

  ‘I won’t,’ I lie. I already have let him get to me. But I know what Noah is getting at. He doesn’t want me to mix this slimeball up with my dad, to let all the frustrations and anger that have built up over the years suddenly spill over the brim and leave me a soggy mess. ‘I’ll be fine, honest.’

  I do, in fact, feel fine, as I march towards the man who a day ago made me snog Noah’s face off. He owes me big time, 1. For not turning up to our date, and 2. For making me kiss a man I really shouldn’t have.

  Although maybe I owe him one. If it hadn’t been for that kiss in the park, then would the kiss in the bar have happened?

  Although I still haven’t worked out if that was the BIGGEST MISTAKE OF MY LIFE. Noah hasn’t mentioned it. I haven’t mentioned it. We are moving on as though that tender moment never happened.

  As if.

  Anyway, Noah is a problem for later.

  ‘Nice T-shirt!’ It isn’t actually, it is naff particularly given the circumstances, but saying this stops me punching him in the mouth or calling him a two-timing bastard. I smile sweetly. My face is stiff and my teeth are gritted. ‘I want to thank you.’

  ‘Really?’ Gavin smiles slightly nervously.

  ‘If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have met Noah.’ He glances at Noah, who has followed me over, rather furtively. ‘Or realised that dating apps are a crap way of meeting people.’

  ‘Haha, really? Have to disagree there, that’s how I met my wife.’

  ‘And it’s how you nearly met me.’ My smile is so fixed my face is about to crack. I can feel the fault lines forming.

  ‘Ah, I don’t think we’ve met, have we?’ He peers closer, then grins. ‘Aha, in the park earlier! We’ve not met properly and been introduced though?’

  ‘Not quite.’ I hold up my phone. ‘Though we got pretty darned close.’ My dramatic moment is slightly marred by the fact that my fingers are actually trembling. Which riles me even more, how dare he make me tremble!

  Gavin makes a move to the left as though he’s going to leave, but Noah puts out a hand.

  ‘I think you should see this, mate.’

  ‘Yes, Gabe,’ I say, holding my phone up so he can see himself, and his wonderful smile. ‘Great photo, isn’t it? Really good likeness.’

  ‘Oh shit, I’ve been cloned!’

  ‘Oh.’ This thought hadn’t occurred to me, and my stomach takes a dive. Oh my God, have I unfairly accused an innocent man? Shit, in front of his friends!

  Then I look at his face. All the colour wouldn’t have drained from his cheeks if he didn’t know exactly what I was talking about. His hand is shaking slightly as he hands my phone back to me. To give him credit, he’s a quick thinker. Although I suppose he had been prewarned by Gemma.

  ‘Really?’ I try and sound concerned. ‘Oh wow, that’s awful! Isn’t that terrible, Noah? Let’s work out who it is who’s done it and you can confront him.’

  ‘It doesn’t …’

  ‘It’s terrible, isn’t that fraud or something? I know!’ I punch the air. ‘I’ve got it. I can arrange to meet him, and you can tag along, and we can tell the police. Like a honey trap! A bastard trap! I mean, this kind of thing can get you in all kinds of trouble. Hang on, hang on a sec I’ll message him right now and—’

  ‘Stop.’ His face is stony, but his voice is low and he’s looking round anxiously.

  I stop pretending. I never have been good at keeping an act up for long. ‘If you don’t admit this to your wife, Gabe, Gavin or whatever you’re called, then I will!’

  ‘Why don’t you just fuck off home, Gav, and sort your mess out?’ The deep voice makes me jump. I spin round and a slightly chubby, average height guy with mussed up hair and tired eyes smiles at me. ‘He’s not worth getting worked up about.’

  ‘But, he—’

  I turn back round, but Gavin is very wisely doing as suggested, and fucking off. He’s walking backwards across the lawn as though backwards means nobody will notice. Then he bumps into the fence, spins round and finds himself face to face with Noah.

  Noah doesn’t look amused. He’s gone a bit shouty if I’m honest and is waving his mobile around, and prodding Gavin in the chest.

  ‘We never liked him,’ says chubby guy. ‘Always seemed a bit too blokey.’

  ‘You don’t like blokey?’

  ‘Not OTT blokey. Only put up with him because of Linda. She’s sound, and Gemma loves her to bits, and well, what can you do?’

  I nod, not sure what to say to that.

  ‘I’m Jed by the way.’

  I find myself smiling with pure pleasure. So, this is tragic Jed, who I’d imagined looking devastated, a worn-out shell of a man. Instead he looks quite normal. He hasn’t got tragic hero tattooed across his forehead. ‘Rosie, pleased to meet you. Noah’s talked about you.’

  ‘Oh really?’ he says in slow motion.

  ‘Nothing bad!’ I add hastily.

  ‘Don’t panic, I meant oh really, as in you’re Rosie. I’ve heard about you too.’

  ‘Really?’ I suddenly feel nervous. What has Noah said to his best mate about me?

  ‘All good, promise. We can swap notes! Fancy a burger?’

  ‘Sure.’

  I smile back at him and it fe
els like I’ve met a long-lost brother. My heart rate has already gone back to normal, and I’m sure in a few minutes’ time I’ll have lost my beetroot hue and smoke will have stopped coming out of my ears. ‘You can protect me from Gemma.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I think she wants to interrogate me!’

  ‘Ahh. I’m sure she does, she’s very fond of her big bro, whatever she says. Protective instinct kicks in.’

  I laugh. ‘Noah doesn’t need protecting!’

  ‘You’d be surprised.’

  ‘Why?’ I am genuinely interested. This is something that I would have never thought could be true. Noah looks after number 1 quite capably.

  ‘He’ll tell you himself when he’s ready! Right, are you a beer out of the bottle girl, or do you want one of those disgusting paper cup things?’

  ***

  ‘Jed’s lovely, isn’t he?’ I say to Noah a couple of hours later when some very good burgers have been consumed, washed down with several beers and we are wending our way home.

  ‘Lovely. You two seemed to hit it off.’ His tone is dry.

  ‘Hey, what’s wrong with that?’ Then it hits me. He’s warning me off. He’s been a bit on edge since he picked me up to come here.

  Why would he want his best mate and the girl he’s teaching to date to get on together? Our worlds weren’t really supposed to collide like this. We are on separate tracks.

  ‘I just—’ He stops dead. ‘I’ve not seen him laughing like that for ages, it was almost like the old Jed was back.’

  ‘So, that’s good, isn’t it?’

  ‘Good, except he’ll feel duped when he finds out we’re not actually dating, and he’ll probably never see you again. I don’t want anybody to get the wrong idea.’

  Ouch. Great. Spell it out loud and clear, Noah! ‘Oh, stop being such an arse. I told him.’ He frowns. ‘What kind of a girl do you think I am? And what’s that look for now? Worried he’ll think you’re screwing me over or something.’ His mouth opens and closes, flapping fish style. ‘Oh, stop worrying for God’s sake. He thinks the sun shines out of your arse still. It amused him.’ That isn’t one hundred per cent true. He did laugh, so I’m not lying, but then he said, ‘oh yeah pull the other one. It might have started out like that, but I know Noah. Boy do I know Noah. Fancy risking a kebab and another beer?’

  ‘He looked after me, he was nice.’ I pause. ‘What is it with you? Every time I’m having a good time you come over like this and spoil things.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  Luckily, we are now outside my place. The perfect timing to say my piece and part company. ‘Yes, Noah, you do.’ He opens his mouth to say something, but I stop him. ‘But don’t worry, I’m not after getting cosy with your friends, you, anything. I can kiss somebody and not think I’m falling in bloody love!’

  I close the door on him then go through and flop back on my bed. I feel like I have been steamrollered.

  I also think I might have just told a lie.

  Chapter 22

  I have a text message from Dad. This is odd because he very rarely texts me, apart from when he’s making up excuses for not coming home, insulting me, or when he wants me to do his dirty work for him.

  This started when I was fourteen years old and he brought me my first mobile. I didn’t realise at the time, but apparently, even though I am now all grown up and have moved out, he still thinks this is acceptable in emergencies.

  ‘Hi Ro!’

  He’s the only person to call me Ro.

  ‘Can you do me a favour, darling? Dad x’

  ‘Sure, I’ll see you at the party, we can sort it then! R x’

  Signing myself off Ro has always seemed kind of weird, so I settled on R quite a long time ago. Once I’d realised that his texts usually were the lead up to him letting me, or Mum, down. Ro suggested we were in it together, camaraderie, co-conspirators. Even as a teenager I recognised the need for distance to protect myself.

  ‘Need to sort it now, darling. Dad x’

  ‘Call me.’

  I know he won’t. Dad hardly ever calls because 1. He’s too busy living his best life, and 2. He hates confrontation. He prefers distance. Texting. I think he is partly, okay mainly, responsible for my non-confrontational, logical approach to life. Except I do it with better, more honourable intentions. I am beginning to think he doesn’t know the meaning of honour, especially not in the ‘love, honour and obey’ context.

  I’m also beginning to realise that he is one of the most emotionally detached people I know, despite being one of the most charming and flirtatious. Oh, and one of the most deceitful. It’s funny, isn’t it, how easily you can be tricked by what people say, and who they appear to be? How you can mistake touchy-feely and smiley for close and open. How you can mistake platitudes for honesty and doing things in your best interest with controlling.

  ‘Sorry, rehearsal, shouldn’t have my phone on. Can you find out how your mother got Serena’s contact details? Dad x’

  ‘That’s easy. I got them for her. Why are you rehearsing, you should be on your way home, shouldn’t you? X’

  ‘Mix up, long story, will do my best to get there. Dad xx’

  ‘Do my best had better mean you will be, I’ll kill you if you aren’t! Ro x’

  I put the ‘Ro’ to counteract his two kisses. It is text sarcasm. Dad, I’ve realised, is an emotional manipulator. See, something else I’ve worked out. It’s taken me a while, but there’s no stopping me now. I’m on a roll.

  ‘Haha you’re just like your mum! Dad x’

  ‘No, I’m not actually, I’m a mix of the two of you.’

  God help me.

  ‘No excuses – you’ve known about this date for 30 years!! See you later R x.’

  Please don’t mess this up, Dad.

  He doesn’t reply. He’s probably working out just how big an excuse he’ll need for not showing. Or how quickly he’ll be able to leave afterwards.

  I can’t let Mum keep punishing herself like this. After this party we are going to have another mother-daughter chat. I am going to put my foot down. This is the last time.

  ‘Be five minutes late, sorry. Noah x’

  ‘Early compared to Dad then! Rosie x’

  I add a crying with laughter face because that’s how I feel.

  Smiley because Noah is coming. I haven’t heard from him since we went to his sister’s barbecue. It was all a little strained on the way home. I’m not sure what we’re doing any longer, or why.

  Crying because I think maybe he’s trying to work out how to tell me he doesn’t want to do this any longer. His pointed comment about how comfortable I was chatting to Jed proves that. I just put the bravado on and said ‘sure’ but the point is, Jed wasn’t a date. I can talk to men who I don’t fancy, have no plan to go out with, and who are friends of friends. It’s the date bit that sends me into a panic. Not that I have any interest in going on a date at the moment anyway, but I’m not going to tell him that.

  Anyway, he was a bit huffy and sharp, so I was a bit sarky and short, so we parted company on much the same terms you do when you fall out with a sibling and you’re ten years old. But without slamming the bedroom door or saying, ‘I’ll tell Mum it was you who let the hamster out’.

  I’m a bit (okay a lot) scared about Noah walking away and leaving me to tackle the dating scene alone. Okay, truth bit here. It is not fear, I’m not scared. Even if I’m not going to admit it to anybody else, I just don’t want him to walk away. Full stop.

  I knew this would happen. I knew it was a total mistake getting involved with a man who was sexy as fuck, confident, funny, fit, loves dating, doesn’t want commitment arghhhh. I knew I’d fall for him. And end up wishing I’d never met him. Or wishing that I wished I’d never met him, because now I know him, I can never imagine forgetting him.

  And we haven’t even slept together.

  The only upside that I can cling on to, is that there is one massive, inescapable difference between h
im and Dad. He doesn’t believe in love, and he won’t ever get married. Haha lucky escape.

  There are so many downsides though. So many other differences between him and Dad as well – he’s not self-obsessed; he’s caring; oh and he doesn’t shoot me down, he likes me just as I am. And he’s not distant, he’s the first person I’ve felt I could share anything with (and that covers the whole gamut from the last slice of pizza, to my innermost secrets).

  So, anyway, despite my head being royally screwed up and having a love-hate relationship with him that he knows nothing about, I am pleased he’s still coming to the party.

  Though I suspect this might be our grand finale. But I am determined to make the most of it.

  Maybe if I play this right we could actually go out with, as Bea suggested, a bang?

  However, I am exasperated to the point of crying with the other man in my life. Dad. Because although I think he’ll show up to the party, his heart obviously isn’t in it. This could be because some other part of his body is in somebody else, if you’ll pardon the crudeness.

  The phone rings. ‘Are you okay? What’s happened with your dad?’ Noah’s concern makes me want to blub it all out. So I do. I never blurted things like this to Robbie because it was somehow different. He’d grown up with them, criticising my parents to him would have been like criticising his. Okay, yeah, we were normal kids who had a moan, but we didn’t come out with anything really damning. It was ‘I hate him because he won’t let me stay over at yours’ not ‘I hate him because he’s a heartless shitbag who’s trying to ruin my life and makes Mum cry’. See? There’s a difference.