Page 16 of Big Nick Energy
He laughs heartily, gaining the attention of a table next to us.
I sit back in my chair, running my hands through my hair. ‘Christ, Nick. What are we doing here?’ I look over at him in his chair, sitting back so I can see how well that shirt really fits him. Both of us still in a state of complete bemusement that we’ve popped up in each other’s lives again, at this precise moment. ‘Are you dating anyone?’
He pauses for a moment. ‘No. You?’
‘No.’
‘So maybe that lady at the stall with the plates had a point,’ he says.
‘That you’re a wanker?’
Again he laughs, and for a moment I feel that emotion too. The idea that it is slightly ridiculous to have bumped into each other after all this time. I’ve had a decent eight years without him. OK, I didn’t fall in love with anyone, but I thought my time with Nick was done. He was a stepping stone to a greater purpose when it came to my love life. He wasn’t the one. Could we have a second chance at this? Did we grow apart just to grow up?
‘God, you look great…’ he says again, slowly.
‘You look OK too,’ I say, pulling a face to take away the intensity of his stare.
‘You said I looked healthy before,’ he jokes.
‘That’s a positive adjective.’
‘You could use another adjective,’ he suggests.
‘You look well.’
‘And wellness is everything.’
‘There are industries dedicated to wellness.’
‘I am aware.’
He leans forward across the table and I feel his leg against mine and I don’t move away. There’s a feeling emerging that I don’t mind it there. That I like it. I watch him staring at me. I almost encourage it. Because despite any bad feeling I may have had towards this man, to be here now, opposite him, listening to his compliments, hearing him say he’s missed out, feels strangely powerful and I want more of it. Do I reject him now, go nonchalant, or do I lean into this?
But then I also remember a feeling I once thought was love. A deep feeling of liking, wanting him. You and I had sex. We were intimate. And maybe another feeling joins the mixer now. I think it’s lust and, well, that trumps it all sometimes. I lean in. This could be a really big mistake, couldn’t it? Or maybe the lady with the plates did have a point.
I rest my hand over my mouth. ‘You look very well,’ I say, staring him in the eye.
‘You want to get out of here?’ he asks me.
Have some fun. Bones.Hell, why not?
EIGHT
‘Hold up there, sparky,’ my friend Lucy says. ‘What have I told you about that? When you eat from a bad buffet, do you go back? You don’t.’ I would possibly take her more seriously if she wasn’t dressed as a snowman, but I stand in the library letting her lecture me before the toddlers arrive.
‘Was it good though?’ Helen asks, propping her glasses up on the bridge of her nose.
‘Don’t encourage her,’ Lucy says, sticking a finger in the air.
‘Maybe the kitchen had a bad day,’ I say.
‘That’s giving them excuses. There are so many decent buffets out there. I can’t believe you went back for seconds,’ she says, clearly unimpressed.
‘I went back a few times, to be fair,’ I admit. At the risk of sounding greedy, it wasn’t simply many times on the one night. It’s a hook-up that’s had legs. We’ve met up twice since for drinks and food that, yes, has led to more sex, but I’m not angry about it. I think I may be mildly surprised and energised by the experience. ‘And all those times have been pretty…’
‘Moreish?’ Helen says, grinning.
I can see Lucy still has her reservations; she narrows her eyes at me. ‘I went to a buffet once and got sick off a chocolate fountain.’
