Page 32 of Toy Boy

“A few. There’s a vegan chocolate and beetroot cake I want to try, because I think we could do with offering a bigger vegan selection. There isn’t a great deal, dessert-wise, in my opinion.”

“No, I agree. Well, use whatever you need, but make a note of what you do use so we can restock.”

As we start to stack chairs, wipe down tables and gather up menus we chat about everything from TV shows to music to this year’s upcoming summer fete. We usually have a stall there selling food and fresh coffee, and it’s always a good day to find new customers for the café. But as soon as we’re done I leave Hanna and Iona to finish up, and I head outside, onto the harbour front. It’s just gone seven-thirty, so I’m already a little late meeting Xander, but I’m not even sure I want to go now. Being around Hanna all day, and seeing how upset she was at his rebuff, no matter how kindly he might have let her down, it’s made me think. Am I being stupid? Thinking this younger man – this beautiful, handsome younger man – could feel anything for me? And then I remember the flowers Scott sent, one of the biggest clichés there is. Roses. Really? Fuck it! I’m doing this for me, because I actually want to find out just what the hell’s going on with Xander. And it’s about time I did something for me, I deserve some fun, too, it isn’t just reserved for the young around here.

Making my way along the harbour front, down towards the beach, I wonder whether I should’ve gone home first, maybe showered and changed, and then I remember this isn’t a date. It isn’t that, so I’m dressed just fine.

The sun’s still quite warm as it hits the back of my neck, the beach less crowded than it was earlier, but there are still a few people out here enjoying the evening sunshine. Kids are playing, dogs are running in and out of the sea, and there’s a happy, relaxed atmosphere in the air, I love summer in this town.

Passing The Shack on my way to the surf shop, I decide to pick up dinner, assuming Xander hasn’t already done so. I’d put money on assuming right, though, so I order a couple of loaded cheese burgers, a side of large fries and two bottles of beer.

Xander’s outside when I finally reach the shop, stacking boards and shifting them inside for the night.

“Want some help?”

He turns around and throws me the kind of smile that, I’m sure, is designed to bring a grown woman to her knees. It almost works.

Setting down the bag of food, I grab one of the boards lying down on the concrete terrace, and I follow him inside, to the back of the small building where some of the boards are stored. I’ve been in this shop many times, but only to deliver Ray some lunch or stop by for a quick chat, I never once felt the urge to take him up on the many offers of surfing lessons.

“Thanks.” Xander flashes me another smile as he shuts the door to the back room, and we head out into the front of the shop. “You came, then.”

“Obviously. Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I had my doubts.”

“You should have a little more faith.”

“To be fair, you were wavering this afternoon.”

I arch an eyebrow, the corner of my mouth twitching up slightly. “I was?” He’s right, actually, I was, in fact, I was still wavering up until about five minutes ago. “Anyway, I’m here now. And I brought dinner.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I was about to go to The Shack once I’d cleared up in here.”

“I passed it on my way, it just seemed easier to get the food while I was there.”

“Okay, well, thanks. I’ll just grab some money…”

“No, this is on me. It’s burger and fries for Christ’s sake, not lobster and caviar.”

He smiles, and we head outside, sit down on the stone steps, and eat our burgers while looking out over the beach.

“How old are you?” I ask, because I kind of feel like I need to know. He isn’t exactly a teenager, I’ve gathered that much, and he may even have said goodbye to this twenties, but he’s still younger than me. I’d like to know how much.

“It’s okay for you to ask me how oldIam but I can’t mention age where women are concerned?” It’s his turn to arch a perfect brow.

“That’s the rules.” I shrug, taking a bite of my burger.

“Alright, well, I’m twenty-eight.”

Oh. Okay. He’s younger than I thought, I mean, sixteen years is a pretty significant age gap. Isn’t it…?

“Still a child, then.” I smile, because I’m trying to make light of something I’m fast losing control of. And he doesn’t respond to my comment, he just smiles back and downs a mouthful of beer.

“Am I your first?”

He looks at me, and frowns. “Sorry?”

“Older woman.”

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