The First Date: A heartwarming and laugh out loud romantic comedy book that will make you feel happy
Page 27
‘It must be.’ I try and match him, lighten things.
‘Or you.’
I swallow, not able to take my eyes off his face. Can I say I’ve missed him, or is that too much?
He edges away slightly, conscious of our touching thighs, our linked fingers. ‘Jed said he’d seen you.’
‘Oh yeah, yeah, he came in the shop. He sounds like he’s feeling better these days?’ He nods. ‘He’s even dating Bea!’
‘Mad man!’ He laughs, and the mood brightens. ‘So, what about you? How’s the dating going, anything to report back on?’
‘No dates.’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘I’ve been busy, and, er, not in the mood. What about you?’
‘Nothing to speak about. Okay, no dates, none. Not the kind I’d speak about or the kind I’d keep to myself.’
‘Do you keep some to yourself, dirty secret?’ I grin, I can’t help it, and nudge him in the ribs.
‘Plenty!’ He rolls his eyes. ‘Come on, eat your lunch, I went to a lot of expense and trouble!’
We grin at each other. Both take a bite of our sandwiches. Sit in silence.
‘Rosie, I’ve not dated because I realised how shallow and pathetic I’ve been.’
‘What?’
‘Spending time with you made me realise what a waste of time it all is.’
‘Dating?’ I gulp. This is not how I expected this to go. I’m all geared up for making up and maybe, just maybe, another kiss, and he’s telling me celibacy is the way forward. Talk about messed up timing. ‘O-kay.’
‘No, not dating. My way of dating, all this making the right moves, seducing people. Okay,’ he puts his hand flat on his knees and leans forward, ‘confession time: everything I’ve taught you is bollocks.’
‘Everything you taught me?’
‘Exactly.’ He tosses what’s left of his sandwich at a pigeon. ‘I watched you do it and cringed.’
‘Cringed! Don’t hold back the punches! I made you cringe?’ I might have to thump him, not kiss him. This is going from bad to worse. I’ve put him off for life!
‘Oh no, no.’ He chuckles. ‘Oh Rosie, I don’t mean that. It’s me I was cringing at, not you. The way you did it, you were amazing. I watched you chatting up all those guys and I was jealous as hell.’ Jealous, Noah was jealous? ‘I cringed because you made me realise how false I was, how much of a jerk I’ve been. What I’ve been doing is crap.’
‘A jerk that women still fall for though,’ I say reasonably. ‘You didn’t make them cringe.’
‘I made you cringe though.’
‘No, you didn’t.’ I smile at him, move slightly closer on the bench. ‘You made me laugh, you made me,’ I frown, ‘made me more me.’
He shakes his head slowly. ‘I was a complete twat thinking I could teach you anything; you’re perfect just the way you are. You are the real deal, Rosie.’
‘So I’m not rubbish at dating?’
‘Oh no, you most certainly are not rubbish.’
Oh my, this is sexy. His voice has this gruff edge to it. If this isn’t a move, if this is the real Noah then he’s making me all hot and bothered without trying.
I realise that we’ve both somehow moved inwards, and now we’re almost touching again. Well, at least I hope we’ve both moved, and it’s not just me who has scooted along the bench like a heat-seeking missile.
If anybody is watching this must look like a weird mating ritual the way we’re sliding along the bench, touching then retreating.
Actually, it would be quite nice if it was a weird mating ritual.
Some higher-level obscure dating thing that he’s not explained to me yet?
‘Watching you doing what I told you to, using all the moves I do made me cringe because I had to see those guys all wanting a piece of you.’
‘A piece?’
‘They thought you were hot.’
‘Hot?’ I say, pleased with myself. Result!
‘And it was doing my head in.’
I raise an eyebrow.
‘I didn’t want other guys to want you, Rosie. I wanted to keep you for myself. That’s why I kept blowing them off and telling you you’d got it wrong!’
I let this sink in. ‘You really were jealous?’
Noah nods. ‘And even if you don’t want me, Rosie. I don’t want you to hook up with some guy for all the wrong reasons because I fed you a load of shit.’
‘It wasn’t …’
‘It was.’ He holds a hand up. ‘Just listen eh? This is hard. This isn’t a chat-up line; this is a whole speech I’ve got prepared.’ He actually looks sheepish, awkward. More like the person I am when I’m faced with a potential date, than the person he is.
It’s cute. Endearing. ‘I’ve fucked up and I don’t want to fuck you up as well. Rosie.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I’ve missed you. I’ve not been on a date since you blew me out cos I realised I didn’t want to. It’s meaningless if I’m not with somebody I want to be with, who means something. And you do.’
‘I do?’ Our thighs are actually touching now; I feel a bit heady and faint if I’m honest.
‘You do. Mean something. It’s you I want to spend time with.’
‘Oh.’
‘I’ve been using those lame moves and chat-up lines to keep myself from getting close to anybody; it was strictly a first date thing, but then being with you fucked it up.’
‘It did?’
‘It made me realise I want to be close to somebody, at least take the risk, try it.’
‘You do?’ I squeak.
‘You’re the first woman since I grew up, apart from Gem and Millie, that I’ve spent real time with, talked about real things.’ He rests a finger on my lips briefly. I want to lick it. I don’t. ‘That I’ve been me with. That I’ve missed like hell when I’ve not seen you.’ He’s gazing at me with such sincerity in his eyes I’m trembling inside. ‘That I’ve wanted to be more than mates with, that I’ve fancied.’
‘You fancy me?’ I say, my voice distant even to my own ears.
‘Oh God, do I fancy you, Rosie Brown. I can’t stand seeing you going out with all those idiots, unless,’ he pauses uncharacteristically, unsure again, ‘you’re into one of them?’
I smile and a strange feeling of warmth starts to seep through my body and make me feel like laughing out loud. I repress it. There’s plenty of time for him to find out just how loopy I am later. He needs easing in gently. ‘I’m not into any of them.’
‘That’s handy seeing as,’ he trails his finger along my cheek, and I lean into it, ‘I need to start again. Dating. Do it right this time. Will you help me?’
‘Well, er yes. If I can.’
His warm hand is on my knee. ‘I don’t half fancy you, Rosie Brown.’
‘Maybe you should kiss me then?’
Oh boy, talk about anticipation. I’m practically quivering as he turns to face me properly, cups my face in his large capable hands.
‘Maybe I should.’
I can taste him before his lips touch mine.
This kiss isn’t like the last time, or the time before. Or the time before that. Wow, just how many kisses have we had while we’ve not been dating?
I’ve lost count. But I don’t care. Forget them, they’re not important.
This is gentle, this is touching, this is so intimate and searching I lose all track of where we are, and why I ever doubted.
I feel like crying, but not crying, like laughing, but not laughing. I feel happy and sad, but most of all I feel like reaching out, showing him how I feel with my touch. Most of all I don’t feel afraid that I’m going to get it wrong. That I have more to lose than I have to gain.
‘Wow.’ He rests his forehead against mine. His finger on my lips.
‘Wow.’ I mouth back.
‘I need to ask you something.’
There’s a long silence, as though he is waiting for permission. So I nod.
‘Rosie Brown, will you come on a date with me? A proper first date?’
/> ‘No chat-up lines?’
‘Well not many, just me, like this. I mean, you do know I can’t actually completely stop the lame chat-up lines.’
‘And just me, like this.’
‘Well almost, you could ditch the “bargain” sticker on your boob.’
Oh gawd, I have a cut-price sticker stuck to me! How could he not tell me? How many people have walked past us and got completely the wrong idea? It could be worse, I suppose, it could say ‘2 for 1’ or ‘slightly damaged’.
‘And the white paint highlight in your hair if you like.’
‘Haha.’ I’d forgotten about that. My answer to sexual frustration – decorating the hell out of my home.
‘No, forget it, just you, stay like that. What do you say?’ He sounds nervous. ‘Can we start again?’
‘I don’t think there’s any going back after that kiss!’
‘Maybe not.’ He smiles. ‘But I’d like to do this properly. I’d really like you to meet the real Noah, right from the start.’
‘You are sure?’ I need to know he’s sure. At least for now. I’ll forgive him if he changes his mind at some point in the future. Maybe.
‘Positive, I’ve known the truth for ages, practically from the moment I met you. I just hadn’t faced up to it until your mum’s party.’
‘That row at my mum’s party really did this to you?’ I giggle.
He chuckles. ‘Well I was in shock; nobody has blown me out for years!’
‘Oh God, I am so sorry about that. I was so wound up about Dad, then about you saying he was a shit, even though deep down I knew he was, but I didn’t want to admit it out loud, and then—’
‘Shh.’ He puts a finger on my lips. ‘It’s fine. I got it. And I got that the last thing you wanted to do was date somebody who reminded you of him.’
‘But I know you aren’t—’
He grins. A disarming, cheeky grin that means the words die on my lips. ‘Come on, Bea will be wondering where you are! I’ll book a table somewhere for our date, if you’re sure about it? Tomorrow?’
‘Of course, I’m sure! But, Noah?’
‘Yep?’
‘No fancy table, I’m not sure that’s me. Can we just meet at that bar? The one where we first met. Erase it, start again?’
‘Well we can,’ he looks doubtful, ‘but it’s a bit flash, obvious.’
‘Meet there, have a drink, then move on?’
‘It’s a deal.’
‘And Noah?’
‘Yes?’
‘What’s wrong with tonight?’
‘My God, you’re a pushy woman! What am I getting myself in to?’
I smile, all sweet and innocent.
He grins. All naughty. ‘But just this once, do you mind if we do it my way? I need to sort something?’
Chapter 28
Luckily when I got back to work after lunch yesterday, Bea was busy with a huge delivery of books, plus text-swapping with Jed so I could creep in unnoticed and wander round in a daze without her passing comment. She was also leaving work early for a dentist appointment, so I could try and get my head round the whole idea of a date with Noah in relative peace – apart from the odd annoying customer asking questions like ‘do you know that book with an orange cover, and maybe a black bit, that’s got a character whose name begins with an “s” or “d”, who does something to the parrot halfway through? The funny one? It’s great, I want to buy it for my sister’.
I hate these guessing games because they nearly always end up with them totally changing half the story and saying the parrot was in another book, and the name actually could have been Quentin, or saying, ‘never mind I’ll have that thriller instead’ and leaving me trying to work out what they were talking about for the rest of the day.
But it didn’t wipe the smile off my face. I just wandered around serenely and did my best to help.
I knew it wouldn’t last though. It is Friday afternoon and Bea has been stalking me all morning.
‘What’s this?’
‘It’s a book recommendation, Bea. You told me to write some!’
‘But it’s nice! I can actually leave it on display!’
I shrug. ‘It’s a great book, even better than the hype.’
‘What’s happened? Something has happened, hasn’t it?’
‘It’s past closing up time.’ I point out, so we do the rest of the stuff we need to do and head for the door. She grabs hold of my handbag strap as I step outside.
‘Hang on, you’re not going anywhere! You’re up to something. You’ve been weird.’
‘I’ve got a date,’ I say as casually as I can, because I know Bea. She won’t give up. Just saying it makes my heart pound a tiny bit harder. I swallow hard, it’s nothing, it’s just a date!
‘What? Why didn’t you tell me straight away, this is ace! Fab!’ She looks at me a bit more closely. ‘You look like you’re about to keel over! Are you okay, Rosie?’
‘We’re going to have a proper first date!’ It’s easier to say second time round. Shit, I wasn’t going to tell anybody though, not a soul, not even Bea, until we’d actually done it and I knew that it wasn’t all in my head. And I knew this could go beyond a few fake, and a few not so fake, kisses.
‘Wow!’ Bea giggles. ‘You are being well weird!’ She takes my hand. ‘Oh my God, you’re actually shaking! Who is it? Where did you meet? Was this on a dating thing, or did you just meet him? You met him! You met him when you were on your lunchbreak! Was it that sexy guy in the café? Or, I know, the one that walks his dog down—’
‘Will you stop, just for a moment?’
‘Tell me! This guy must really have something!’
‘He has,’ I say weakly. Putting off the moment when I have to tell her.
‘Hang on a sec, just let me make sure the door is locked. Right, tell!’
‘Noah.’
‘What?’ The keys hang limply in her hand. She stares at me, then laughs. ‘For a moment there I thought you said …’
‘Noah.’
‘The Noah? Oh wow, I’ve got to tell Jed! You do mean a proper date, don’t you?’ She checks, finger poised over her phone. ‘As in not a lesson, or fake stuff, or—’
‘A date. I feel sick.’
‘No you don’t! You feel excited, nervous, stuff like that.’
‘I do. Oh Bea, what the hell am I going to wear?’
‘When is it?’ I look at her blankly. ‘Your date?’
‘In approximately two and a half hours.’
‘Bloody hell, come on, we’re flagging a taxi back to your place. You are going to have the makeover to beat all makeovers, girl.’
‘No. Bea, stop, please stop.’ I put a hand on her arm, just as she flags a taxi down.
‘Stop as in no taxi?’
‘No, no get in the taxi,’ we clamber in and I shout out my address, ‘stop as in total makeover. I don’t want to seduce him, Bea.’ The taxi driver winks at her in the mirror. ‘I want to be me.’ There’s a fluttering in my stomach, but this isn’t fear, or dread. This is excitement, anticipation. I’d go straight to meet him dressed as I am, if I could.
‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’ll do you, but the best you. Otherwise, you will regret this like hell when you’re explaining how it started to your grandkids.’
‘Hey, stop there …’
‘Well Grandad was smart and sexy, but me?’ She says in a funny voice. ‘Well Granny had on her old big work knickers, and her sensible on her feet all day flat shoes, oh yeah, and her jeans. Cos when she’s climbing up ladders all day she don’t want them bookish geeks getting their thrills from her pantyhose, does she?’
‘Shut up, Bea.’
She smirks. I grin back. ‘Anyhow, it’s only Noah so I don’t know why you’re in such a tizz. You’ve already dated! You don’t need to seduce him from scratch, he knows the score, babe.’
‘God, Bea, you’re more excited than me!’
‘Not poss.’
‘But this is different! And
I want it to be right. I want it to be special. I want him to feel special, it’s all about him.’
She gives me a sideways odd look. ‘I think you’re not getting enough oxygen to your brain. Oh look, here we are, come on get a move on we’ve only got two hours and three minutes to get you defuzzed and looking completely au-naturel. And we all know that takes bloody ages! Can’t you just go for tarty and high-maintenance? I can achieve that in half an hour flat.’
I pay the taxi driver and follow her to my front door. I really shouldn’t have told her.
‘Hang on, Jed’s texted me back! Jed says, oh no … I can’t say that out loud. I’ll show you later. Now come on woman!’
I really, really shouldn’t have told her.
***
To be fair, Bea has been a brilliant help. Because for one my hand is trembling so much there is no way I could have applied eyeliner without poking my eye out. And for two she really does know her stuff when it comes to looking natural without actually being, er, natural. You know what I mean, right? Looking thrown together takes effort and years of practice.
And now I am standing outside the bar, ridiculously early, and feeling a bit like a kid on Christmas Eve. Excited, but prepared for disappointment. Yeah, I was one of those kids.
I stare at the door. This is where I met the wrong man, who might just be the right one. And if it turns out he’s not, you know what? I’ll cope with that. Because I have been taught that by the greatest person in the world, the one who has always had my back. Mum.
‘Hi, Mum, it’s me, everything okay?’ I can’t help myself. I have to speak to her before I take this step and move on.
‘Oh fabulous, Rosie. I’m going to have so much to tell you about when I come home. And what are you up to?’
‘I’m out on a date.’ I pause and smile to myself. ‘With Noah.’
‘Ahh. Oh, I’m so pleased; it would have been such a waste to have just been friends!’
‘Mum, do you ever regret marrying Dad?’