Third Date (11 page)

I laugh. “Besides my shiny hair, what else did you like?”

“You always dressed nice, like in skirts and colorful dresses. Compared to you, the other girls looked kind of sloppy. But then you stopped dressing that way after . . .” His voice trails off.

“My mom died.” I look down at my hands which are on the table. “Yeah, after it happened, I stopped caring about what I wore or how I looked. It just didn’t seem to matter anymore.”

 
He reaches across the table and holds my hand. “I wish I’d done more for you after the accident. I really do.”

“What would you have done? You were 15. Like you said earlier, kids that age don’t know what to do when something like that happens.”

“I could’ve—” His eyes dart to the side as he thinks. “Maybe written you a song?”

“You write songs?” I can’t help but laugh.

He laughs, too. “No. I can’t even sing. But guys in movies always write girls songs and it makes the girl happy so it sounded like a good idea.”

“Brad, you didn’t need to do anything for me. And you shouldn’t still be worried about it 10 years later.”

“We all have regrets, Morgan. And that’s one of mine.” He looks right at me as he says it.

He’s still holding my hand and I haven’t pulled away. I don’t want to. I like the feel of it. We’ve never held hands before and yet for some reason, it feels familiar.

Our food arrives and the waiter pours us more wine. During dinner, Brad and I continue to reminisce about our old neighborhood, our school, and people from our class. He tells me a little about his internship at the food company. His friends. What he does for fun in Chicago.
 

Hours later, we’re the last people at the restaurant. The employees are sweeping the floor, probably wishing we would leave. But I don’t want to leave. I like talking to Brad. I’ve told him things tonight that I haven’t told anyone else. Like that thing about thinking I was a burden to my dad after my mom died. I just recently admitted that to myself. And now I’ve told this guy from my high school who I used to only know from his reputation.
 

“I think they want us to leave,” Brad whispers, eyeing the guy next to us who’s wiping tables and putting flipped-over chairs on them.
 

“Yeah, we should go.”

Brad comes over and helps me put my coat on. As we leave, the owner introduces himself and tells us to have a nice night. Brad thanks him for letting us stay so long.
 

When we get outside, snow is falling. It’s a heavy snow with big white flakes. It’s just like the snow that fell the day my mom had her car accident.

I suddenly feel a heaviness in my chest and feel like I can’t breathe. This happens sometimes when it snows like this. And I hate it. I hate that I still react this way. It’s been 10 freaking years, Morgan! Get over it already!

Brad is standing at the car holding my door open. “Morgan, are you coming?”

I can’t get in the car when it’s snowing like this. I know it’s stupid but I can’t do it.

I’m feeling out of breath and I’m starting to sweat, even though a cold wind just blew past me.

“I think I’ll just—” I try to take a deep breath so I can speak, but it feels like my lungs are collapsing and I can’t get any air in. I think I’m having a full-on panic attack. Why the hell is this happening now? This is so embarrassing.

Brad shuts the car door and meets me on the sidewalk. “Morgan, what’s wrong? You look like you might get sick. Was it the food?”

I shake my head. “No. I just can’t—”

He’s staring at me, waiting for me to explain. But I don’t tell him what’s wrong because I don’t want him, or anyone else, knowing I have this irrational fear of big, fluffy snowflakes. The thing is, other type of snow doesn’t bother me as much. I only have this reaction to a particular type of snow. The type that happens to be falling right now.

Brad sees me watching the flakes fall to the ground and says, “The snow.”

I slowly nod, surprised that he figured that out. For all he knew, I could’ve been thinking about anything, but he knew I was thinking about the accident.
   

He pulls me into a hug. “Morgan, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you still—”

“It just gets to me sometimes.” I whisper it.

He keeps hold of me. And being wrapped in his big, warm arms relaxes me enough that I’m able to breathe normally again.

“Brad, you can go. I’ll call a cab when it stops.”

He pulls back a little, wiping the wet snowflakes off my face. “Morgan, I’m not leaving you here. Let’s go see if there’s a coffee shop around here where we can wait it out.”

“Okay.” I smile at him, happy that he’s being so nice about this.
 

He takes my hand and we walk down the cobblestone street, but there aren’t any coffee shops. Just some restaurants and shops that are now closed.

“I guess nothing’s open,” he says. “Are you okay if we just wait in the car? I won’t drive anywhere. We’ll just sit there.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

We’re at the end of the street so we turn around and begin walking back.

The snow is letting up a little and the flakes aren’t as big. We’re still a block away from the car when I stop and tug on Brad’s jacket. “Brad?”

He stops and turns to face me. “Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry about this.”

“Why? It’s good to walk after dinner. Helps the digestion.”

I smile. “That’s right. It does.” I back up a few steps so that I’m under one of the awnings jutting out from the building.

Brad steps forward until he’s under it as well. Our gazes meet and he takes another step so that he’s right in front of me.

“So did you have a good time tonight?” He puts his hand on the side of my face, his thumb wiping the wet snowflakes from my cheek.

“Yeah. Really good.” I keep my eyes on him as he leans in closer.
 

“I did, too.” I feel his warm breath over my lips and my heart starts beating faster. Then he kisses me. It’s a soft, gentle kiss and it’s only lips, no tongue, just like when Grant kissed me. And yet it doesn’t feel the same. When Grant kissed me, I liked it, but it didn’t really cause much of reaction in me.

But Brad’s lips, just barely kissing mine, are all it takes to make my insides all warm and tingly. To make my heart beat so fast I almost feel out of breath. I’ve never had a kiss like this. I didn’t know a simple kiss could make my whole body react.

He slowly pulls away and looks at me. I think I’m smiling but I’m not really sure. I’m too mesmerized by that kiss.

He reaches down and takes my hand. “You ready to go?”

“Do you think maybe you could do that again?” I can’t believe I asked him that. I try to come up with a reason for it. “It’s just that it’s cold out and the kiss kind of warmed me up.”

He smiles just a little and slips his hand under my hair and behind my neck. He tilts my head up as he slowly lowers his lips to mine. My heart is pounding in anticipation and when he finally kisses me, my insides heat up again. He’s still not using his tongue. Just his soft lips moving over mine, alternating the pressure and causing the tingly feeling again.

He backs away and I already miss his lips. He holds my hand and smiles. “Should we go?”

I’d rather stay here and kiss, but it’s getting too cold to stand outside so I agree to walk back. By the time we reach the car, the snow has stopped but the wind is fierce. Brad opens the car door for me, then goes to the driver’s side and starts the engine, turning the heat up to high.

“You stay warm. I need to scrape this ice.” He takes the ice scraper from the back seat and goes back outside, scraping the front and back windows. As I sit in the car, I think about what a great night I just had. I’m still not sure if it was a date, but if it was, it’s the best date I’ve ever been on. And it ended with the best kiss I’ve ever had.
 

When we get back to the hotel, Brad stops at my room. “Thanks for having dinner with me.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“Well, goodnight.” He starts to leave.

So that’s it? We’re just done? I’m not ready for him to go. I don’t want this to be the end. Tomorrow is the last day of the conference, which means I may never see him again.

“Wait. What about tomorrow?” I blurt it out and realize how desperate I sound, like I’m begging him to take me out again. “I mean, tomorrow is the last day of the conference so um, what are your plans? For dinner? Or lunch, or whatever?” I sound even more desperate. I’ve now asked him to be with me in any possible capacity.

“I have that second interview tomorrow during dinner. I don’t know how long it will last. It might go on for a while.”
 

“Oh, okay.” I get this panicked feeling, knowing this is our final goodbye. I have to see him one last time. I’m not even sure why. This is so confusing. Why am I acting like this? I barely know him.

“If you want, I could call you after dinner,” he says. “We could go have a drink in the bar downstairs.”

I feel myself smiling like a junior high girl being asked to her first dance. “Yeah. Let’s do that. Call my room whenever you’re done.”

“Okay, I will.” He heads back to his room. No goodnight hug. No kiss. Nothing.
 

Despite the romantic dinner we just had, and the kiss, I guess we’re just friends. It’s too bad, because I think I really like this guy.

I didn’t get to bed until midnight and my lack of sleep causes me to doze off during half of the morning sessions. At the noon break, I grab a salad from the deli across the street and bring it back to my room so I can catch up on emails.
 

As I’m eating lunch my phone rings. When I answer it I hear, “Morgan, it’s us.”

“Hi, Kayla. Is Paige there, too?”

“Yeah, she came back to work but she’s still sick.” I hear the phone click as she puts me on speaker.
 

“Hi, Morgan.” Paige’s voice sounds hoarse. “How’s the conference? I’m sorry you had to go at the last minute like that. But at least you’re in Boston. Are you having any fun?”
 

“The conference isn’t that great, but I’ve met some people and I’ve been going out at night.”
 

“You’ve been going out?” Kayla sounds offended. “Miss Never-Goes-Out is now going out with strangers? You never go out with
me
.”

“I go out with you sometimes, just not every night. And not all of these people were strangers. This guy from my high school is here.”

“So you’re hanging out with a guy every night, huh?” A man’s voice says it in a kidding tone.

“Grant’s here, too,” Kayla says.
 

Good thing she told me. I was just about to tell them about Brad.

“Morgan, I haven’t heard from you,” Grant says, still in that kidding tone. “I had all these work emergencies and my mentor wouldn’t answer her phone.”

I laugh. “Sorry about that. I’ve been really busy at the conference.”
 

“I have to get back upstairs but I just wanted to say hi. I’ll see you soon. Let’s have dinner when you get back.”

“Sure. Sounds good.”

He leaves and Kayla takes the phone off speaker and lowers her voice. “Grant is totally into you, Morgan. He stops by here every day asking Paige and me if we’ve heard from you. Why haven’t you called him?”

“Wait, I want to hear this.” Paige seems to be trying to listen in.

“Paige, don’t get so close. I don’t want your illness.” Kayla puts me on speaker again.

“I can’t talk to you guys about Grant when you’re in the office. Someone might overhear. You’ll have to wait until I get back.”

“We’re in the conference room. Paige is closing the door. Okay, go ahead.”

“I didn’t call him because I didn’t have anything to say.”

“What do you mean you didn’t have anything to say?” Paige asks. “Just talk to the guy.”

“It’s not that simple. He makes me nervous and I tend to say the wrong things when I’m nervous. I don’t want to screw up again. I already lied to him at dinner that night.”

“So who’s this guy you’re hanging out with?” Kayla asks. “Did you say you dated him in high school?”
 

“We didn’t date. We grew up in the same neighborhood. But I didn’t know him that well. We went to school together but he was two years ahead of me. In high school he played football and was really popular. He had practically every girl in my high school after him. The rumor was he slept with half of them.”

“That doesn’t sound like your type of guy.” Paige coughs. “Why are you hanging out with him?”

“He’s not like that anymore. He’s grown up a lot. He interns for a food company now. He’s been interviewing for jobs. Anyway, we went to dinner last night and had a great time. We were at the restaurant so late they practically had to kick us out. And we took a walk and it was, I don’t know, nice. Really nice.”

There’s silence on the phone and I check to make sure we’re still connected. “Are you guys still there?”

“Yeah. We’re just surprised,” Paige says. “You sound like you really like this guy. You were giddy just now when you talked about him.”

“Giddy? What are you 90, Paige?” I hear Kayla move closer to the phone. “Morgan, you
did
sound way more enthusiastic than normal.” She pauses. “Oh my God! Did you sleep with him? Yes! That’s gotta be it! You’ve got the sex glow. It’s radiating through the phone. Congratulations!”

“What? No! I didn’t sleep with him.” I don’t want to tell Paige and Kayla about the kiss. They’ll make too big a deal out of it.

“You said this guy was a male slut in high school. So what’s the deal?” Kayla’s words are garbled like she’s got a lollipop in her mouth. She eats like 10 of them a day. “Is he married or something?”

“No, he’s not married.”

“Then why didn’t you make out with him?”

“For one, I’m dating Grant, or at least I might be in the very near future. And two, I’m just friends with this guy. That’s it. We’re just friends who went out for a nice dinner.”

“Is he hot?” Kayla asks.

“Extremely hot. He’s tall, blue eyes, athletic.”