Page 9 of Beautifully Complicated

“Getting outside your comfort zone,” he concludes with a modest grin.

“You do that often?”

“No, but I did offer to buy you a drink, so I’m working on it.” He holds his glass up, penetrating gaze locked on mine, and our glasses clink together before I realize I’ve decided to move my arm.

Dear God, it’s like he’s put me in a trance.

Eyes locked on each other, we sip our drinks as is customary. Then we set them on the bar, watching. Waiting. For what, I’m not sure, but neither of us seem inclined to look away, as if we’ll miss something vital if we do. Something that can’t be put into words but can be spoken all the same. A feeling maybe, or a question.

It’s not until the clatter of an empty bottle hitting the trash can breaks our concentration that we’re startled back to the present.

“So, you’re also a football fan?” Aiden’s the first to recover.

“Guilty.” That one word is all I seem capable of saying after our…moment.

“Me, too. I tried not to be since it’s so over-hyped, but it’s hard to ignore something you’re surrounded by, so eventually I caved.”

“Have you got a favorite team?” I finally find my voice.

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head as if in warning, though his toffee eyes have a playful twinkle in them. “Nothing can derail a perfectly good conversation as fast as finding out you’re talking to a rival fan.”

“True, but you know I’m from Ohio and we’re still talking, so you must figure I’m not a rival fan.”

“Being from Ohio doesn’t automatically make you a fan of the teams there. Plenty of people choose their team for something besides geography. Besides, Ohio has a few teams, so even if one of them were a rival to mine there’s a fifty/fifty chance you wouldn’t support it.”

“That’s a fair point, but you have to admit geography is usually a pretty good indicator.”

“Not for me.”

“What’s your deciding factor then?”

Aiden traps his lips between his teeth like he’s trying to decide how much he can say without giving away his reasoning. “Proximity to a superfan,” he answers.

“And that means…”

“I’ve been subjected to my best friend’s favorite team for so long it became mine.” Aiden’s voice is kind of resigned, and I’m tempted to get to the bottom of that when he once again changes the subject.

“What are some of your favorite movies?” Aiden props an elbow on the bar and rests his head on his hand, all but forgetting his drink and focusing on me.

At the risk of sounding like a jerk, that’s nothing new. As an expert in my field, I’ve often got the rapt attention of people I’m speaking to, but Aiden’s interest is personal rather than professional, giving it an intimate air. It’s been a while since people were curious aboutmeas opposed to what I know, and I like it.

Unfortunately, I doubt we’ll find common ground here, since I have to be at least a decade older than him.

“I’m not sure you’d recognize my favorites since they’re probably from a different era than yours.”

“Thirteen-year age difference, remember.” He smiles knowingly. “Try me.”

“Okay. I never saw an M. Night Shyamalan film that didn’t leave me speechless at the end. Or a comedy by the Coen brothers that didn’t leave me with a stomach ache from laughing.”

“Did they direct American Pie?”

“I don’t think so. The Big Lebowski is probably my favorite of theirs.”

“The dude abides.” Aiden’s grin is so wide it’s infectious. “What else?”

“The Shawshank Redemption. I mean, M. Night Shyamalan is the king of the twisted ending, but I was floored when Shawshank ended.”

“For me that was Fight Club.”

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