Page 52 of Big Nick Energy
‘I don’t really know what’s driving this?’ I ask him, looking around at the plastic roof. Even though there’s a soundtrack of jingly Christmas music playing, it’s hard to not also hear the lashing of the water off the sides of this fancy dinghy we’re on.
‘I think they’re remote controlled so we won’t float out to sea,’ he reassures me.
‘That would be a great story though. Remember that time we ended up in the North Sea in that blow-up boat.’
‘We had to make the fondue last for days…’ he says. I laugh. Possibly a little too loudly as we’re in an enclosed space, but deep down, I know I do this out of guilt too. Here’s Nick who is not just taking me out to dinner and a movie. He’s thinking about our dates, he’s really spoiling me, looking after me, treating me to all that this glorious city can offer. It’s luxury I’ve never experienced and all of it is completely enthralling, such a special gift in a way. However, two days ago, I also spent an afternoon with Santa Nick and I can’t help but think he slowly revealed himself to me in ways that he hadn’t done before. Not like that. I still have only ever seen him clothed, but there was the way he instantly connected with my nana, his ability to charm his way around that room was endearing, his empathy completely floored me. But I have to turn away. It’s the right thing to do. Because he’s a man who I do book stuff with, we don’t even hug or shake hands, and right in front of me is a man in a floating boat investing time and energy into me, into us. I have to give this Nick a chance.
I tuck my hair behind my ear. ‘I’m wearing the earrings by the way,’ I say, showing them off and he beams, putting a hand to my cheek. Maybe this too is the difference between the Nicks. The natural way with which he comes in to touch me, the intimacy we’ve shared since we met where there’s been no hesitation. We know each other, we search each other out physically when we’re together. I know this man. In a world of relationship labels, all I know is that being here with him feels right.
‘God, your hand is frozen…’ I say as I put my hand over it.
‘I didn’t plan. Stupid me to think they’d have a log fire on a rubber boat,’ he jokes.
I slide in closer to him and place my blanket over him. ‘They also gave us hot-water bottles,’ I say, handing him one.
‘And nothing screams sexy like a hot-water bottle down the pants,’ he jokes, his bottom jaw chattering. ‘Remember that date I took you on and I got hypothermia.’
‘You grew icicles off your hair, all Leo inTitanic.’
‘Didn’t the boat sink in that one?’ he says, winding his arms through mine.
‘Yeah, the difference is if we sink I reckon I can breaststroke it to a ladder over there. I reckon I could also save the fondue.’
‘And not me…?’ he says.
‘Women and fondue first.’
His laughter is everything but I like the way it makes him feel more connected to me as he scooches in close, trying to extract all my bodily warmth. It’s possibly not the candlelit glowing romantic moment he envisaged but there is something special about being able to look up to the stars and enjoy being in each other’s company.
‘You mentioned you saw your nana,’ he says, as we continue to look skyward. ‘Did she enjoy the hamper?’
I won’t tell him she gifted the posh tea to the nursing-home medium. ‘She did.’ I sit there for a second wondering what else to say. She’s poorly, Nick. Her mind meanders and can’t find the memories and my biggest fear is that she’ll forget the love I feel for her, that her light will diminish so quickly and so catastrophically that it may consume me. But I don’t want to share it at this time, I’m not sure why. ‘It was very kind of you and generous.’
‘Well, we all deserve treats this time of year. I’m glad.’
His eyes return to the earrings, getting out his phone. ‘I knew they’d suit you. Come, we should get a selfie, maybe?’
‘OK?’ I say, half reluctantly but also a little surprised that he would want to do something to record the occasion so publicly.This is what couples do, I guess. I get into the frame and pose, watching as he adds it to his Instagram story. ‘Date night x’ reads the caption. I smile.
‘Also, I think we should talk about the earrings too,’ he says, nudging me, jokingly. Instinctively, we both know what he’s talking about. After the very grand gesture of Santa gifting me that little box, and assuming he was assisting a proposal, neither of us talked about it. We continued to shop, we had the most incredible sushi, we went back to his flat, we had sex. We’ve even shared a bath together and it wasn’t discussed. We didn’t talk about that little moment at all. ‘I didn’t bring it up last time because… well, we were trying to thaw you out but just to check, were you expecting a?—’
‘No,’ I say, cutting him off instantly. ‘Dude, it’s literally been weeks. I wasn’t even expecting the whole Santa thing. I was not expecting a…’ We laugh as neither of us can even say the word. It was a twist of fate that brought us back together and our time together has been unexpected, but it’s far too early to project into the future yet. ‘I mean, when we spoke at the ice rink, you did talk about our kids, so I was a little unsure,’ I joke.
He chuckles softly. ‘I’ll take that. But… if we were to talk about this, what it is, where we’re going?’
I look into his eyes. I think they’re reading hopeful and it pains me to say anything he might not want to hear on open water.
‘Headed towards the Thames?’ I joke. He reaches down below the blanket and grabs my hand. ‘Fun, I think we’re having fun.’
‘Fun,’ he says deliberately.
‘Did you want honesty?’ I ask.
‘Always,’ he says, arranging the blanket over both of us.
‘Maybe I am being cautious because I don’t know what this is. A chance to go down memory lane or is it a second chance atbeing you and me again?’ He nods, a look telling me he doesn’t quite know either. ‘The sex is good?’
He bursts out laughing. ‘It is pretty good.’
