off my knee and leaves it feeling all cold.
I take a deep breath. I am going to do this. I am going to make the next hour of my life, with this totally unsuitable guy, count. ‘Okay, you’re a man.’
‘Last time I looked I was.’
I ignore him.
‘So, you can tell me. What the fuck do men want?’ This is the question that has been bothering me since I got here. Well since Gabe didn’t get here. Well okay, since well before then. Since I realised that I don’t know how to date.
If I knew exactly what they wanted, then I wouldn’t have been stood up, would I? I would also be confident about first dates.
‘Sex, beer, food, football?’
I am a bit worried about the order of this list but will ignore it for now. ‘Can you be serious here, just for one teeny moment? I mean as far as a date goes. How do I find the right guy for me? How do I find a date? What do I say? How am I supposed to know how to do it?’
‘It?’ He grins. He’s gone twinkly again. A little dimple has appeared either side of the gentle curve of his mouth.
‘Date! Are you completely sex mad or something?’
‘You want me to tell you how to find a date? Really? A girl looking like you do?’
‘Really.’ I try and grin back, but it doesn’t work. My face won’t cooperate. I think it looks suspicious not happy. ‘What do you mean, looking like me?’
‘Cute!’
I shouldn’t have asked. He’s got a flirt-setting jammed full-on permanently. ‘This is stupid. Forget I asked.’ I slip my purse out of my bag. ‘How much do I owe you for the drink?’
He puts out a staying hand, which brushes against my arm and sets the goose bumps off. ‘You’re being serious, you want to know what men want in a woman, a date?’
‘I said forget it.’ I’m mumbling, and fidget so that we’re no longer touching; this is getting embarrassing.
‘But you found a date, he just …’
I look him in the eye. ‘Didn’t show! Blanked me, ghosted me!’ I’m embarrassed because I feel stupid. What kind of crazy impulse had taken over my normally balanced mind and persuaded me that this could work?
Okay, you don’t need to answer that. I already know. One word. Desperation.
‘People get stood up all the time, Rosie. It’s par for the course.’
‘Maybe your course, but not—’
‘You’re upset. Come on, let’s get another drink.’
‘I should go.’ Not talk to strange men in bars about my dating disasters. ‘I’m not upset.’ Well not much.
‘Stay, why go home and sit in the dark eating ice cream and watching people pretend snog on the TV when you can chat to me?’
He twinkles at me, in a nice, not over-flirty way. I am tempted. And, how did he know I was going to do that? If he’s a mind-reader this could be useful, but also bad.
‘Come on, for my sake as well.’ He shrugs. ‘I’ve not got anywhere else to go. You’d be leaving me all alone.’
‘You’d soon pick up another girl.’ I grin back at him.
He looks around. ‘Place seems pretty short of single women right now.’
‘True. I can see you’re really stuck!’
‘So I’ll sit here and bother you! Come on, Rosie, spill! If you want to that is, or we can talk about me, yeah me!’
I laugh, I can’t help it. He’s funny. ‘Okay I’ll have a drink if it makes you happy, but it’s my round, okay? And I’m not upset, I’m angry.’
He chuckles. ‘I’d never have guessed!’
I roll my eyes and smile back. He’s good company actually, and another drink and a moan is a far better bet than going home and sulking with only a packet of crisps for company. And better than bothering Bea. It’s not fair on her, I can’t call again.
Chapter 2
‘Now you mention it, you do look a bit angry. Feisty! Scares some men! Cheers!’ Noah raises his refilled glass and grins. He’s easy-going, cheerful, just what I need. And, despite the fact I still reckon he’s a bit of a player, he’s given up on making moves and I have to admit I do quite like him.
And I know he’s just flirting, but the way he’s looking at me – intently as though he’s interested – is making me feel much better inside.
Nobody looks at me intently these days. I hadn’t realised I’d missed that – until now.
I can feel myself frowning. ‘Not sure I like feisty,