Page 65 of Blindsided By You

I trudge towards the rear entrance of the pub, like a man walking to the stocks. I’m not sure tonight isn’t going to be simply a more modern form of public humiliation. But when I think of the chance to spend another two hours with Jenna, it’s a no-brainer. I’d endure worse than this for even one of her smiles.

She’s done her best to make sure I’m not a total muppet, making me practice for this quiz every damn day for ten days straight. I’ll be at work and hear a chirp from my phone, only to check it and find a voice message with some random question I’m expected to answer. “No Googling,” she says, but I’ll admit to cheating. After all, looking it up has to be better than sending back a row of ‘????’ and have her think me completely ignorant.

A blast of heat, noise, and alcohol hits me in the face as I swing open the door. The place is packed. Obviously there’s a whole lot of people who consider this fun, and I suppose it is, compared to what else is on offer in Cluanie on a Tuesday evening—absolutely nothing.

I’m peering across the bar, trying to spot my team, when a hand grabs at my arm, and I turn to see Jenna behind me, loose dark hair tumbling across her shoulders, which are bare apart from two tiny straps of fabric holding up a skimpy red top. There’s a faint pink mark on her chest, just above where the top ends and her breasts begin. I smile to myself, recalling how my mouth claimed that very spot only hours ago. These afternoon meetups are the best tea breaks I’ve ever had in my life.

“Oh, good. You’re here in time,” she says. “Starts in five minutes. Still time to get a drink.” There’s a glass of wine in her hand.

“Thought you’d have lined up a beer for me,” I tease, raising an eyebrow. “Did you think I wouldn’t come?”

“No,” she quickly denies, biting her lip. “OK, maybe. I know you aren’t exactly keen.”

“More like scared shitless.” I give a choked laugh. “But you know I’d do anything for you.”

Her eyes meet mine, and that grateful look ignites a searing pain deep in my chest. I’d like to say it’s heartburn from scoffing two of Mum’s bridies for lunch, but it’s not. It rips at my heart when I see Jenna’s gratitude for something she deserves as of right, a guy who’d walk through fire for her. This here tonight is my bed of flaming hot coals and I’m going to show Jenna, and keep showing her, that I’m that guy.

I’m also the guy who’s heeding his sister’s advice. “Be patient,” Rachel whispered in my ear as she left my house ten days ago. So I am. I’m accepting Jenna on her terms until she’s ready to take the next step. And she will. I watch her walk away, knowing the day is coming when everyone in this room will know she’s mine.

I step up to the bar, ordering a beer from a smiling Skylar, who’s been promoted from waiting tables to pulling pints and appears to be loving every minute. She’s a good kid, hardworking and clever too, according to Jenna.

I angle my way through the crowd to where Jenna and the other members of ‘Quizzing In The Deep’ occupy a large booth. Daisy and Calvin sit on one side, Troy and Lexie on the other. I slide in next to Calvin, almost pleased I can’t sit next to Jenna. I don’t think I could stand two hours close to her without my hand roaming to her thigh, or wanting to press a kiss to her cheek.

Sitting opposite, our feet can discreetly bump under the table, and I have an unobstructed view of her spectacular cleavage. The tricky part will be not letting my gaze linger on her face. I can’t guarantee the others won’t notice the heat of wanting in our eyes or the silent conversation that flies between us whenever we’re together.

However, there’s no time to talk, with words or smouldering looks, as the quiz master steps up to the mic. It’s too late to escape. Within minutes, I relax, relieved to find the guy in charge, who thinks he’s a bit of a comedian, also reads the questions from the screen. The girls are literally fighting for the pen to record the answers. With a thankful slug of my nice cold pint of Tennent’s, I wash down my fear of exposure, realising I’m not about to be put on the spot with my disability showing for all to see.

The first few rounds pass with minimal embarrassment. There’s a sports one, which me and the two other guys absolutely nail, although Jenna comes through on some obscure question about tennis that gives us a perfect score.

I feel a flush of pride when my ten years of roaming the globe pay off on a ‘World Cities’ round. I bet I’m the only person in the room who knows Bandar Seri Begawan is the capital of Brunei. With every answer I give, I see approval in Jenna’s eyes; but it’s more than that, it’s belief.

She believes in me more than I believe in myself. For the first time in my life, I have this sense I could do anything; nothing is beyond my reach. Except for one thing: Jenna as I really want her, not just in my bed, but as my everything. She’s fighting it, but sometimes, like tonight, I see the walls come down a little.

We banter like the other couples in our team, laugh together over little private jokes, steal bites of each other’s pizzas when theycome—hers a Margherita, mine a Hawaiian with pineapple criminally slathered all over it. She even comes right out and declares she likes it to everyone. How hard would it be for her to do the same about me?

When we come to the music round, I see Daisy sit a little straighter; the pen poised in her hand, ready to shine. She and Lexie do well, racing through the first nine questions, including, as expected, one about Taylor Swift. Daisy’s bright smile falls as she repeats the tenth question from the screen.

“What does GBX stand for? What kind of music question is that?” She frowns, wrinkling her nose and chewing on the pen.

“George Bowie Experience,” Jenna and I both say at the same time. The others look at us blankly while we grin at each other like loons.

“If you say so,” Daisy says doubtfully, while writing it down. “Is he related to David Bowie? Some old seventies music?”

“Jesus,” I say, staring at them incredulously. “You can’t tell me you’ve never heard of George Bowie?”

“GBX Anthems?” Jenna chips in. “Radio Clyde?”

They shake their heads.

“Nah, man,” Troy says. “Never heard of him.”

“What rock have you all been living under?” Jenna says.

“Well, we can’t all be living the high life travelling the world.” Troy gives a good-natured snort. He makes no secret that he’s perfectly happy here, working at the family butchery and married to Lexie.

“God, Glasgow’s practically just down the road,” Jenna laughs.

“Been there a few times. Didn’t like it much,” Troy says, shaking his head as if he feels sorry for anyone who ever has to leave Cluanie,before rising from the table. “Right, time for another round of drinks, eh?”

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