Page 188 of Falling for You
It takes a minute for the penny to drop, and then I see Tanya’s mouth drop. Penny peels her eyes open and smiles.
‘So itwashim.’
‘What, was he there?’ Tanya gapes at me. ‘Did I date him? Is that who you ran off with?’
‘Yes, no and yes.’
Penny slowly pushes herself up to sitting straight on the sofa, a big tuft of her blonde hair sticking out vertically. ‘I need more information,’ she says, picking up her mug and wincing as it singes her hands through the thin china.
I reposition myself on the beanbag and tell them everything. We ended up staying in Infernos until the lights cameon, dancing and yelling lyrics at each other and laughing. There was so much laughing. Andso much kissing. I haven’t kissed someone like that since I was a teenager.
‘Sorry.’ Penny holds up a hand. ‘You took him to a kebab shop and then to Infernos? Are you mad?’
‘He kept talking about how he really wanted tosee London,’ I say.
‘That’s a red flag for me,’ Penny says.
‘He loved it!’
‘Even more of a red flag.’
‘Hang on, wait,’ Tanya says, interrupting us both before we can start one of our bickering matches. ‘You kissed?’
I beam. ‘Yup.’
‘And what next? A second date? How was it left?’
‘He asked to see me again and then said he’d message me.’ I turn over my phone and it blinks back up at me, blankly.
‘But nothing yet?’ asks Penny.
‘No.’
‘Well, it’s only first thing in the morning,’ Tanya says fairly. ‘I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon.’
I hold the phone, basking in my warm glow. ‘I’m sure I will too.’
Potential reasons why I haven’t heard from Nate:
He’s lost his phone. He dropped it down a gutter on the way home, never to be seen again, and has absolutely no way to find me.
He was so horrified at Infernos that he’s moved back to America.
I’m a terrible kisser (worst one, please don’t let it be this one).
He’s dead.
I twiddle my pen between my fingers and glance up at the wall clock which hangs opposite the entrance to our office. It’s steel grey with shiny hands and crisp, neat numbers. It’s almost the only thing in the office that I let Pam choose – except for her office chair.
My eyes flit back down to my phone, laid next to the keyboard on my desk, silently taunting me, just like it has been for the past two days.
Two days! It’s been two days since we went on our date and he still hasn’t texted me. Why? What could he possibly be doing?
I would text him, being a modern woman and all that jazz, but at the end of the night I was being all aloof and hard to get and acted like I wasn’t fussed about getting his number so left without it.
Iamfussed. Of course I’m fussed! Although it’s probably a good thing that I don’t have his number, or he would have received a desperate, dreadful message begging him to see me again and promising that I’m not actually that bad at kissing.
Or, worse, a stern message giving him a piece of my mind which would be chased immediately with a terrified ‘sorry, wrong number lol!’ which would then live in my head, rent free, for the rest of my sorry little days.
