Red Nights - Shari J. Ryan Page 0,31
happened. “Wait—how did you know where I work?” While we’re playing this ring around the rosy bullshit game, it literally just sprung into my head that I never gave him the name of the restaurant I work at. I don’t even know how he knew I was a chef, and now I really want to know what else he knows about me. Maybe he’s using his detective skills to get info on me. And I’m not sure how I feel about that.
“I searched your name online and came across your resume,” he says with a quick wink. “Impressive.” And I feel like an idiot. Gotta love social media.
“But…” I tilt my head to the side, “how did you know my last name?”
“There are like two Felicity’s in Providence-you and a nun. So I did eenie-meenie-miney-moe.”
I close my eyes and laugh softly to myself. “So you looked me up?” I ask, resting my elbows on the bar and my chin in my hands. I may have batted my eyelashes too. “Smart idea, Detective. I could be a creep too.”
“Nah, that’s my job. But yeah, these days, you sort of have to know who you’re getting involved with.” With his fingers pinched around the neck of his beer, he takes a long swig, his dimples caving in—it looks like he’s trying to avoid a smile. “Ya never know.”
* * *
Five beers and a hundred more unanswered questions later, my mind is a bit hazy. Hayes’s cheeks are rosy and I’m getting the sense we’re both getting a cab out of here, which sucks because the side roads of this city and parking tickets are like bees to honey.
“It’s about closing time. Ready to go?” he asks.
I take my coat off the back of the chair and pull it on. “I suppose,” I sigh. Hayes tells the bartender to add the beers to his tab, and he helps me out of my seat, escorting me outside and up the steps. “I live just up the street,” he says. “How far is your place? You staying with a friend or something?”
“Yeah, a friend. It’s about a block from our special little coffee shop.”
He takes my hand, weaving his fingers through mine, making me feel claimed. Cared about. Comforted. After a minute of walking in the direction of Aspen’s apartment, he says, “I’m going to walk you home if you don’t mind.”
Home? It’s not my home. It’s just temporary.
I hate temporary.
The clouds from this morning are hovering even lower, and considering that rain is still looming, I’m thinking it’s not the best night for a half-mile walk. “I can just call a cab.”
He looks up into the dark sky. “You scared of a little rain?”
“Me? No. I was worried you’d have to walk all the way home, soaking wet.” Which I think I’d like to see.
The raindrops start one by one, giving us the false impression of a light drizzle. Called it. But by the time we reach Rasta Man Coffee, it’s a downpour that drenches us both. Now I kind of feel bad. He may not have realized how far Aspen’s apartment really was from the bar, and I can’t just invite him into the apartment. That’d be weird, especially since I haven’t given Aspen any details about him.
We approach the awning in front of Aspen’s building and he’s all smiles, even laughing a little. “Great night for a walk.” I can hardly hear him over the rain, but his words don’t quite matter. I’ve been waiting to kiss him since the moment I saw him sitting alone at the restaurant tonight.
First kisses are always nerve-wracking and full of surprise, but second kisses are full of anticipation thanks to what I already know, what I’ve already had a taste of. “I really like you,” he says, loud enough to drown out the heavy rainfall.
I can’t invite him in…is that why he’s stalling? I point upstairs. “Aspen, my friend I’m crashing with, would ask you a million questions if you came up. I—”
“Oh, no. No. I wasn’t waiting for an invitation. I have a ‘seven date’ rule anyway.” I can see him fighting the urge to smile, but he’s losing that battle.
“’Seven date’ rule?” I laugh.
“Yeah, it’s dumb.” He runs a palm down the side of his face. “Because I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to make it that long.” He leans in, stealing a quick kiss. But I feel cheated. I want more.
“How do you know we’ll last seven dates?” I ask.
“Good