It was our fifth date, which I suppose is why Pete thought it would be okay to take my hand as we made our way across the crowded cobblestone street in search of his friends. Five meticulously planned dates, during which he’d upped his courting game each time. There was zero chemistry between us, but it seemed he hadn’t figured that out yet.
I knew this wasn’t going anywhere. Pete was my rebound. At 31, I was six months out of a long-term relationship that had broken my heart, and I needed someone safe and comforting. He was definitely that. I knew I’d have to break it off with him eventually, but I was still semi-enjoying the idea of him.
It was a beautiful night; the sky clear and filled with stars – a rare sight in the city. We passed bar after bar on the popular Montreal downtown strip. Music blared from open doorways as people spilled out into the street, laughing, touching, kissing—lips and inhibitions loosened by drink.
“There they are,” Pete said, pulling my hand while I resisted the urge to jerk it away. He led me to an outdoor table where I recognized three of the four guys sitting there, but the last one... him I’d never seen before.
He had a medium build, with dark curly hair. He stood when he saw me approach, like some throwback to the fifties when chivalry was alive and well. He was tall, over six feet, and he wore jeans and an old Led Zeppelin concert shirt. He squared his shoulders and I couldn’t help but notice the muscle ripple underneath that shirt. I walked towards him, pulled as if by some magnetic force. He had sea-green eyes… When they locked with mine, I knew I was in trouble.
“Hey,” he said. “Matt.”
“Hi,” I said, putting out my hand. “Allie.”
He took my hand and everything inside me simultaneously froze and caught fire. He quickly let go and motioned to the empty chair behind me. We both sat, and he eyed me carefully. The ice vanished; I was pure fire. He had a small scar over his left eye, and I wanted nothing more than to reach over and touch it. Pete looked over with a smile, squeezed my knee and turned to chat with his friend, Dave. Shit.
“Allie,” Matt said. “That’s short for…”
“Allison, yes. But it’s been Allie for as long as I can remember.”
He glanced at my knee, where Pete’s hand still rested.
“Been seeing Pete long?” Matt asked, with a mischievous edge to his voice.
“No,” I said casually. “Fifth date, maybe?”
He nodded towards my knee and whispered, “Pretty handsy, no?”
I laughed, shifting position. Pete’s hand fell from my leg. I looked Matt straight in the eye.
“Better?”
Matt raised his eyebrows and tipped back his beer bottle, emptying the contents into his mouth. The heat burned through my body as he studied my face.
“How’d you meet?” he asked.
“At a bar. Much like this one. With many of the same people. But you weren’t there.”
Matt smiled and was about to respond when we were interrupted by the waiter, bringing over drinks I hadn’t noticed Pete order. He handed me a glass and I smiled in thanks, taking a sip. Vodka and soda. Five dates and the guy couldn’t remember I drank gin and tonic. He turned back to Dave to resume his sports talk. I stared at my glass.
“Not your drink?” Matt asked.
“How’d you know?” I said, laughing.
“I’ve known Pete a long time.”
“Wrong glass for the drink, too.”
“Are you a bartender?”
“Food critic. But you’re changing the subject. Why haven’t we met before?”
“Right. I just got back from six months abroad. On a work contract.”
I nodded, heart racing as I stared into those green eyes. I couldn’t pull my gaze away. Finally, he tilted his head, raised his eyebrows, and smiled in a way that pierced me to the core. He had a gleam in his eye as he leaned in towards me.
“You two serious?”
“Pete and I? No,” I said, wondering why I was revealing this to one of Pete’s friends. But I had lost any semblance of control over the conversation the moment I sat down at the table. I took a sip of my drink.
“Have you slept with him?”
“Excuse me?” I asked, almost spitting out my not-gin-and-tonic.
“Complicates things if you have,” he mused aloud. “Well, it complicates them even more.”
“What makes you think you’ve even got a shot?” I asked, trying for an indignant tone.
He just looked at me. Every once in a while he rubbed the scar over his eye, the only evidence of self-consciousness he displayed. I wanted to touch it.
I looked over guiltily at Pete, still engrossed in conversation. He must’ve felt my glance because he reached over absently to rub my arm. I looked back at Matt.
“You felt it, too. When I took your hand,” he said.
“I felt it.”
He pulled his chair in a little closer, his leg brushing up against my thigh. I could smell him. Some familiar hair product with the faint hint of soap beneath it mixed with his own scent. I could barely swallow. I blushed. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, and I trembled slightly. There was no denying it. The chemistry was palpable.
“I slept with him,” I whispered, so quietly it was almost inaudible.
“Shit,” he said, a little too loudly.
“What’s the matter?” Pete asked, turning his attention to us. “Is there a problem?”
Matt just smiled at him.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll work it out.”
I cleared my throat, suddenly uncomfortable. How on earth did I get myself into this situation? I turned to Pete.
“Actually,” I said, “I’m not feeling that well. I’m a bit… warm.”
I heard Matt chuckle under his breath. Dave peered around Pete and gave us both a quizzical glance.
“Do you think you could take me home?” I asked.
Pete looked back at his buddies with a moment of regret before turning back to me.
“Sure. Of course. Let’s go.”
He stood up and held out a hand to me. I pretended not to see it, as I bent down in search of my purse. I grabbed my bag, feeling the heat spread across my face, and stood up. I smiled at Pete and turned to say goodbye to his friends. As we started away, Matt called out, “Hey, Pete. Think I could get a ride?”
“Dude. Of course. Come on.”
I froze. How dare he? competed heavily with He wants me!, leaving me in a state of complete paralysis. Pete grabbed my hand and started walking, Matt following a few paces behind. I was numb but decided to let him hold my hand, being a little unsteady on my feet. I could feel Matt’s eyes boring holes through my back.
When we got to the car, Matt came up beside me.
“Want the front?” I asked him.
“Don’t be silly. You take it. Girlfriend privileges.”
Pete grinned like an idiot and unlocked the doors.
“This is a fifth date,” I said. “A little early for labels. But thanks for the seat.”
I slid into the car, determined to remain silent for the duration of the ride. As I strapped on my seatbelt, Pete pulled away from the curb and drove slowly down the busy street. He fiddled with the radio as he navigated his way towards the highway.
“Where you headed?” he asked Matt.
“Drop me at the apartment,” Matt said. “I’ll do some painting.”
I turned in my seat to face him.
“The apartment?” I said, bewildered.
“Yeah, I told you,” Pete said. “Matt is the third roommate I’m moving in with.”
I stared at Matt, mouth agape. He grinned, shrugged, and raised his eyebrows. Complicated, he mouthed. I turned back to face the front and closed my eyes. Resting my head against the back of my seat, it struck me.
“You’re Goldberg,” I said.
“At your service,” he replied.
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