Page 31 of Love, Just In

‘Oh, yeah, you guys are buds.’ Lindsay grins like he’s got amnesia about how he and I met.

‘And Zac says you work for a software company?’

He tilts his head. ‘Been asking about me, huh?’

A blush tints my cheeks, and he shifts his stool a little closer to mine. ‘I don’t really need to work, but I like what I do. Basically, I look after the strategic vision of the business and make sure that our software aligns with it. I set up the benchmarks, the customer acquisition strategies, the value propositions, the KPIs. I also manage the implementation, the stakeholders, thedevelopment life cycle … and many more cool things like that.’

My eyes are glazing over, so I divert the topic to some of the day’s news stories until it becomes apparent that Lindsay is as uninterested in news and politics as I am in software.

‘How are you enjoying Newcastle? Zac taken you anywhere good yet?’ he asks with a hint of competition in his tone.

‘Um, we’ve both been busy, but we’re going to a Sri Lankan place soon,’ I reply, weirdly defensive.

Lindsay snaps his fingers at the bartender for another bourbon. ‘How long have you been friends with Zac?’ he asks as I unfold the dinner menu.

I blurt half a laugh. ‘I think since the Cretaceous Period.’

‘The what?’

‘We’ve been friends a long time,’ I explain. ‘High school. We also went to uni together.’

Lindsay studies my face, a strange smile dancing around his lips. ‘Have you ever been a couple?’

‘Nope. I might get the salt and pepper squid. It looks good.’

‘Oh,come on.’ Lindsay blocks the menu with his shoulder, peering into my face. ‘You and Jaymo never dated?’

‘Jaymo?’

‘Jaymo as in Jameson. Zac Jameson.’ His chin jerks back. ‘You went to school together and don’t know his last name?’

‘I know his last name, and I also know that no one has ever called him “Jaymo”. That’s a terrible nickname.’ I push the menu towards him. ‘What do you think you’ll have?’

Lindsay’s playful gaze refuses to part with my face, like he’s waiting for some big reveal. ‘You never answered my question.’

What is this guy’s deal?‘I just told you. Zac and I have never dated.’

‘Why not? He’s a good-looking guy. And you’re obviously gorgeous.’

I breathe a chuckle into my rosé. ‘Thank you,’ is all I can think to reply.

‘Guess I read the signals wrong then,’ Lindsay mutters, flipping the menu over. ‘I’m gonna have a schnitty.’

Signals?

‘Actually, Zac did have a blonde chick coming over recently who was pretty sizzling,’ he adds, and that territorial feeling eclipses my chest again. ‘Maybe they’re “just friends” too.’

Lindsay chuckles at his own joke, but it’s obvious that he doesn’t really like Zac, and I’m having trouble figuring out why. Did something happen between them? One thing I’ve picked up on is that they have wildly different energies. The Zac I know—or used to know—is chilled, low-key and comfortable in his own skin. Whereas Lindsay keeps fidgeting with his gold watch, gulping bourbon like it’s water, and tapping one of his feet. I’d pegged Lindsay as Mr Confidence, but rightnow, he’s coming off as the more insecure of the two.Oh my god—why am I comparing them?I kick Zac Jameson out of my head.

The food’s greasy but good, and by our third round of drinks—which I’m pretty sure is Lindsay’s fourth, fifth or even sixth—we’ve uncovered a similar taste in movies and dream holiday destinations, and he’s looking more appealing with every sip of my wine.

It’s a little after ten when the bartender calls for last orders. I’m tired after being up with the sparrows to chat to Ingrid this morning, but Lindsay gets one more bourbon for the road and suggests we move on to a pub in Hamilton. I shake my swimming head and remind him that I’m working tomorrow.

‘So am I, you lightweight.’ His cheeky smirk suits his face, and I reconsider his offer for a split second before deciding against it.

‘I’m going to call an Uber home,’ I say, catching a trace of a slur in my voice. Lindsay tosses back the last of his drink and chases me outside.

A gust of cool air whips my cheeks from the water’s edge, and I cross my arms over myself, already dreading my inevitable headache tomorrow. Natasha was disappointed in me today, and while Meghan was reading the news tonight, I was out getting half-sozzled with a guy I barely know. A blade of self-loathing cuts into my chest, followed by a twist of regret that I didn’t just go to the Sri Lankan restaurant with Zac. I’d be in bed by now, getting a good sleep before work tomorrow.

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