that’s what Mum used to call the stray cat she left food out for.’
He chuckles again. ‘It’s cute, I like it!’
‘I’m not trying to be scary, am I really?’
He nods. ‘Assertive.’ His grin returns. ‘Quite a turn on, actually.’
I sigh. ‘You can’t help yourself, can you? Just forget sex for two minutes.’
‘Yes, Miss. So, why the mood?’
This is interesting. I never thought of myself as scary. Maybe because I’ve been nervous, and under pressure.
‘It’s just,’ I sigh. How do I explain to somebody I hardly know, just how important tonight was to me? Noah is the type of guy who has an endless stream of dates. ‘You won’t get it.’
‘Try me.’
‘Okay. You asked for this!’
‘Hang on, let me brace myself!’
I punch him on the arm and realise that I don’t have to move forward to do it. We’ve got kind of close again, which is a bit worrying. ‘Funny! Haha slipping off my stool, hang on!’ I wriggle back. I don’t think that was an obvious retreat. Very sneakily done, Rosie! ‘Have you any idea how long it took me to get ready tonight? I tried on at least six outfits!’ That’s two hours of my life spent finding the right outfit that I’m never going to get back.
‘Really?’
‘Don’t say it like that, as though you’re shocked! I wanted a bit sexy, but not too sexy.’
‘Oh God, no, heaven forbid! Too sexy!’ He plants his palm over his eyes. ‘Complete disaster on a date.’
He’s making me laugh again. I’ve not laughed this much for ages – well since me and Bea thought that hiring a rowing boat and taking a dog she was looking after in it was a good idea. Bad idea. ‘And I wanted to look smart, but not like I tried too hard.’ I pause. ‘Why am I telling you this?’
‘Who knows, but carry on.’
‘I guess if I stop, we’ll have to talk about you?’
‘Spot on!’
‘Right fine, I’m good to keep going. Then there was the whole waxing thing. I spent ages thinking about it and it kept me awake last night: how far should I go with waxing?’
He blinks.
‘Sorry, too much info.’
‘No, carry on. How far did you go?’ He’s doing the cocked eyebrow thing again.
‘I didn’t, so you can stop that! Just legs, armpits and eyebrows.’ It had bothered me, the whole ‘how much hair is too much?’ According to some stuff I’d read, a single hair anywhere but on a head was a hair too far these days. Not that I’d been expecting to leap into bed with Gabe, but be prepared has always been my motto – and I’d been thinking of this as a dry run for a second and third date. ‘But I don’t know what is right!’ I flap my arms. ‘I’ve never done it before!’
‘Waxed?’
‘No. God, I’m not hairy, am I?’ I glance down as though I’m half expecting to see tufts poking out. ‘I meant I’ve never had to get ready for a first date!’
He frowns. ‘What do you mean, never had to—’
‘Well not never, ever, obviously. But not for ages, and last time it was different. It’s complicated.’ A rush of disappointment hits me, and I’d been doing so well at ignoring it. The whole splitting up, and it looking more and more likely each day that I am never, ever going to find another date. I babble to cover it up. ‘And it took ages to get here, and I don’t even like this place much.’
‘Here,’ he clicks his fingers and more drinks magically appear. Had I finished mine? I can’t even remember drinking it. The first sip, yes. But, after that? ‘O—kay. You’re not upset.’
‘I’m not upset.’ Okay, I am. But I sniff it up and refuse to give in.
‘But you did find a date, so that’s a good start, eh?’ He is looking at me encouragingly, like my mother used to when I’d failed my driving tests but hadn’t got minors in absolutely every category.
‘I didn’t exactly find a date. Not in real life.’ I am never going to see Noah again, so I can admit it all to him in this moment. ‘I found him on Tinder. I’ve never actually met the guy. This was supposed to be our first date.’
‘And he’s blown you out? Wow, what a douche! You see, that’s the trouble with matching up with some guy on an app, he’s not met you in person.’
‘Er, that’s the point.’
‘But if he’s not met you then he doesn’t know what he’s