Page 41 of Just Like That

Seeing him that way, along with the pent-up discomfort I feel myself, resurrects the rush of mirth I had to suppress earlier with David. Despite my best efforts, I begin to lose my self-control.

‘What’s up with you?’ Nick asks, without looking at me.

I wrestle with myself, trying desperately to remain composed, which makes it even harder for me to get hold of myself.

‘Noth… nothing. Just, eh… ha… sorry… just something that happened earlier.’ My hand jitters and I nearly knock over my drink.

‘Maybe we should move that somewhere safe before one of us ends up with it in our lap.’ He slides the glass in his direction with a hint of a smile. ‘And as we’ve got half an hour to pass, how about you tell me a bit about yourself?’

‘Is that how you always open your dates?’ I let out an amused snort. ‘If so, it’s no surprise you’re single.’

A spark of emotion flickers across Nick’s face and I instantly regret my words, remembering what Lauren told me about him being divorced.

‘Sorry, that was insensitive.’

‘It’s fine. But the answer to that question is “no”, because I don’t date. Period.’

‘Why’s that?’

I think I already know the answer to this, and why he doesn’t seem to like humans very much – I suspect it’s something to do with his ex-wife. But I can’t help asking, because I’m coming to the realisation that, as much as he’s a bit Jekyll and Hyde, I’m a little that way myself in response to him, too.

‘I thought we were going to talk about you,’ he replies, not giving me at all what I want.

‘No, you decided you wanted to know more about me, and it seems I’ve decided I want to know more about you. So where does that leave us?’

‘Shall we give the tortoise the deciding vote?’ Nick asks, making me smile.

‘OK, how about we take it in turns to ask questions? Then we both get our way and we might actually leave the park tonight knowing each other a little better.’

‘Fine by me. What do you want to know?’

He takes a swig from his martini glass, which is an odd look on him, especially as he hasn’t bothered changing out of his overalls for this event. He also has something brown smeared across his forehead, which I’m sincerely hoping is just mud.

‘Where do you live?’ I ask.

‘Aberlady. You?’

‘Edinburgh, near London Road. How long have you worked here at the park?’

‘Nineteen years. I started as a general dogsbody after school, did my qualifications on the job and worked my way up.’

‘Which makes you…?’

‘Experienced?’ Nick fixes me with a look of mind your own business. ‘OK, thirty-six.’

I’m surprised by this. ‘Right. I thought you were younger than that.’

‘Is it a problem?’

I realise he’s tuned into the age comparison I’m doing in my head – though hopefully not what I’m really thinking – and I feel myself blush. ‘Why would it be a problem? It’s of no odds to me what age you are.’

I realise this is actually true, because the part of me that wants to rip his clothes off doesn’t give a crap about his age. Plus, he’s notthatmuch older than me, nor is he interested in me, so this whole thought process is moot.

‘What’s your favourite streaming show?’ I rush to move things on.

‘Hang on.’ He narrows his eyes. ‘You just had two questions in a row, so it’s my turn.’

‘I didn’t realise we were playing to such strict rules.’

---