Page 20 of Touch in the Dark

“Since when does that bother you?”

“Doesn’t, but it’ll bother her.”

As if on cue, my grandmother starts in about how ridiculous it is they don’t have prices, and she would have been happy at Five Guys. I roll my eyes at her.

“Tak, is stupid,” Alessa agrees, her Ukrainian accent is strong tonight. “No prices, bitesize food, giant plates,” she shakes her head in disgust. “Leave hungry.”

“I hear you sister,” Doris agrees.

I glance at the waiter, he isn’t in the least bit concerned about their griping, thank fuck.

“Doris, you’re worth your weight in Gold, let us spoil you,” Jordan points out, he’s leaning back in his chair with a large tumbler that probably holds JD and coke.

Doris grumbles some more but gets out her glasses so she can read the menu. It doesn’t surprise me when she asks for large portions of what she orders, telling the waiter she expects to leave here with a full belly, given the amount of money her grandson is paying. He nods obligingly.

“How was the opera?” Jenna asks. She’s met Doris a couple of times and they became fast friends, but that is Jenna, she can make friends with anyone.

“Loud,” Doris says, making a few people laugh. “Those opera singers have some pipes on them.”

“Not as good as me though?” Adam is sitting across from her.

“No one has a more beautiful voice than you. Even as a little tyke you sang like an angel.”

“Aw,” Jenna smiles, putting a hand to her chest.

Archer fake gags and I laugh, earning a scowl from Doris and a smug look from Adam. Everyone chats among themselves as the food is brought out and Doris exclaims how happy she is to see a full plate. I sip my wine, enjoying watching my friends and family.

Arch has brought a date, he picked her up at the party a few weeks back at Remi Molyneaux’s house. She’s been hanging around the apartment, seems like a cool chick. Archer has been happier than he was last month, so I’m not going to complain about it. Doris is my date for the night and I’m good with that but seeing my friends with women does leave a vacant space in my chest.

Fuck knows what I was thinking at the party at Remi Molyneaux’s. I hadn’t planned it, but I found myself following Elsa when she disappeared down the stairs. It was clear she was shocked, even though she knew I was coming, Jenna forewarned her at least. It had been something of a wake-up call though, given the way Elsa reacted. I had to admit to myself I was jealous of that guy she was with, especially when he kept fucking touching her. I had no right, still didn’t stop it consuming me. Even after we spoke. I’d tried not to, but my eyes sought her out all night.

Part of me wants to tell her nothing happened with that woman. I was drunk and I hadn’t wanted her. What I really wanted… I couldn’t admit it to myself. Back then, I’d thought us ending was a good thing. Not hurting her but letting her see the person I wanted her to see. She deserves more than I can offer her.

Seeing the other guys settling down, it’s been playing on my mind. It isn’t just that I want to have what they have, without sounding like an arrogant fuck, I can get any woman I want. It is about the connection to someone, feeling things beyond more than just fucking, or hanging out. It’s about being able to talk to someone, to get them. Like really get them.

Looking back, Elsa gave me that. And I threw it all away. Because I’m terrified of commitment, of being hurt, being abandoned. Which is fucking stupid, I know that.

“Nick?”

I come out of my musings and look up, unsure who called my name. Everyone at my end of the table is looking at me. “What?”

“Where’d you go?” Jordan laughs.

“The cake?” Archer says, casting a furtive glance at Doris.

“Sorry,” I shake myself and glance at the waiter who is lurking by the door, obviously he’s tried to get my attention. I hold up a hand for him to give me five and get to my feet. Everyone turns to look at me. I make a toast to my grandma, wishing her a happy birthday. Everyone sings as the cake is brought out. She gushes over the giant two-tiered heart shaped monster with a little grandma figure made from fondant, standing beside the candles.

“Don’t you know a lady never gives away her age,” she chastises me, but her cheeks are rosy, her eyes glistening with emotion.

Later, after more food and wine, Arch doesn’t bring his girl home, he sees her into a cab, and she looks less than happy about that. The car takes Doris home, after she swatted my ass and told me I didn’t need to go miles out of my way to see her home, seen as she lives in Brooklyn and I’m in Hell’s Kitchen. It is hardly miles, and no hardship for me, given we have a limo, but she won’t hear anything else. I make the driver swear on his life he’ll see her safely into her apartment and text me when she’s home.

“You didn’t want to bring Sophia back?” I ask, as we step onto the elevator in our building.

“Not feeling it,” he leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets.

“Fucking, or her in general?”

“I’m always down for fucking,” he shrugs. “She’s nice but it was always short term.”

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