Page 30 of The 21-Day Boyfriend
“I just came up to…” He gestures to something imaginary behind him.
“I’ll grab my coat.”
“Okay.”
He sticks his hands into his pockets and takes a few steps back. I leave the door open – it doesn’t seem nice to close it in his face – as I grab my coat, phone, and keys, before coming back over to the door.
He hasn’t moved an inch.
“Let’s go.” I nod towards the stairs and he leads me down; I close my front door and follow him. Eric opens the street door and goes to step through it, before reconsidering, stopping, and letting me through first. I shouldn’t be blushing like this as I thank him, and he shouldn’t be shifting his gaze away as if he were embarrassed, too. Not when we’re just two strangers pretending to get along; not when we’re following a script; not when we’re so unalike that we’re decidedly wrong for each other.
We reach his car and climb inside. He switches on the engine, along with the heating which, for a few minutes, spits out only cold air. I rub my hands together in an attempt to warm them – I didn’t bring a pair of gloves, and I’m beginning to regret it.
“I should have waited in the car and left the engine running,” he says, rubbing the icy fog from the windscreen so that he can see to drive.
“I had no idea it was so cold tonight,” I say.
“Have you not been outside?”
“Not today.”
He looks at me.
“I didn’t have any classes, and I haven’t been out.”
“Are you seriously telling me you only leave the house to work?”
I don’t know why we’re having this conversation – I didn’t expect it. Last time we just sat in silence, or he grunted in response to my questions.
“Pretty much.”
He pulls away from the kerb and into the road, following the traffic into the city. I live in the centre of town, in a tiny apartment not far from the university, so I don’t need a car. I like it, although it can be a little chaotic. It’s comfortable, functional.
“Don’t you see… People?”
“People?”
He shrugs, his gaze fixed on the road in front of us.
“Do you mean… Guys?”
“Not that it’s any of my business…”
“No, it’s not.”
He clears his throat and shuffles nervously in his seat.
“I was just wondering why a guy like you agreed to pretend to be with a guy like me.”
“I don’t know what the insult was there, but I’m sure there was one.”
“No insult. I’m just… Curious.”
“You’re interested in my life?”
“No, what are you talking about…?” He glances over at me before moving his eyes back onto the road.
“There’s nothing wrong with asking questions, you know. I like it,” I tell him.
