Page 60 of Best Man
“What did you get?” I ask as we move away.
“Here,” he says, pushing the paper bag at me. “It’s yours.”
“What is it?” I pull the book from the bag and stare down at it. “A Child’s Garden of Versesby Robert Louis Stevenson.” I look up at him. “Why?”
He shrugs. His eyes are very bright, and he’s actually blushing. “The point of this date so far is to get to know each other through a book. This was my favourite book of poetry when I was little. I had the version with these amazing pictures and I read it over and over again. I’m sorry. It’s silly.” He goes to take it back, and says “oof” as I elbow him in the ribs.
“Fuck off,” I say indignantly. “You just gave it to me.”
“It was a silly idea. The poems are very lame now.”
“It’s the best thing anyone has ever given me, and no poetry is ever lame.” I stare at him, clutching the book to my chest protectively. “Your present means so much more. It lets me see inside you. My travel book idea seems really silly now. They didn’t show you anything about me.”
“On the contrary, you’ve shown me so much more than you think.” I open my mouth to ask what that is, but he pushes his hands into my hair and brings me forward into a hard kiss. When he pulls back, I blink at him, and he smiles. “Jess, you didn’t need to show me much anyway. You’re an open book in yourself. I don’t need a contents list or a glossary for you. You’re just you, and it’s wonderful.”
I shake my head and put my book carefully back into the paper bagand then into my carrier bag. “Well, I have to say that I need some Cliffs Notes for you,” I mutter and he laughs, slinging his arm over my shoulders and turning us to start walking.
“I’ll buy you one,” he says. “But I need to see what’s next on this date of yours.”
I eye him. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
He smiles at me. “So much. This is the best date I’ve ever been on.”
I shrug. “Well, I am pretty epic.” His laughter fills my ears, and I smile because in the walk to the next part of the date his arm stays over me, warm and solid and somehow wonderful.
When we get to our destination, he looks up. “Lick the Bowl,” he reads. He turns to me with one eyebrow raised. “We’re going in here?”
I nod. “This is a restaurant that serves only two things.”
“And what are they?”
“Desserts,” I say, smiling at him. “We’re having dessert for dinner.” I wink. “We’re breaking all the rules here, Zebedee.”
He shakes his head. “What if I don’t like eating pudding?”
“I’m sure you’re not quite that strange,” I muse. He laughs, and I grin and tuck my hand into his arm and pull him towards the door. “If you don’t like desserts, I know you’ll like the other thing they serve here.”
“Which is?”
“Cocktails.” I smile happily. “They have overone hundredcocktails on the menu.”
“And I suppose you’ve sampled all of them,” he says, holding the door open for me.
I shake my head sadly. “Charlie, Eli, and I tried one night. I tried really hard, but it was no good.”
“What happened?”
“I fell off my stool and had to be helped to a taxi.” I look around and then sigh in relief. “Phew, the waiter isn’t on tonight. He wasn’t particularly happy when I threw up on his shoes.”
“What a strange person,” he drawls.
We give our name to the waitress who’s dressed like a schoolgirl. She zips off to get our table ready, and Zeb looks after her in confusionfor a second and then leans back against the wall and stares at me. “So,” he says slowly. “Who’s Eli? Is he an old boyfriend?”
I stare at him, flabbergasted at the level of jealousy in his voice. I don’t know whether he’s aware of it or not, but it’s definitely there and it sends a thrill running through me.
“No,” I say. “Eli’s been my best friend since childhood.”
His expression clears. “The Welsh one you mentioned?”
