Chapter 17
OLIVER
I’ll believe this is a real date when I’m sitting across from Aaron, at a restaurant, with our entrees in front of us, ready to take the first bite. Until then, I refuse to get my hopes up.
It’s not his fault. My brain knows this. Except when it comes to Aaron, all my common sense goes out the window. I’m a complete mess, waiting for him to call it off at the last second. And since I’m banned from doing another rage run, I’m forced to find another outlet for my frustrations.
It’s not all the lack of dating either. It’s the lack of sex as well.
Since the party at Matthias’s place, we’ve seen each other a few times.
That included running and crocheting, and the party at his place.
Aaron’s been very clear that those don’t count as dates. To him, that means no physical stuff.
And yes, they barely even pass as hanging out. I’m incapable of talking while I run—which I’m pretty sure is how Aaron prefers it—and we usually watch TV while we crochet, only interrupting the show when Aaron has a question about his technique.
He’s right, those aren’t dates, but I’d like to petition to have them count as at least a quarter of a date, especially when Aaron wears his tiny little running shorts.
Holy hotness. Those things should be illegal.
Outside, of course. Inside, he’s welcome to prance around in them as much as he wants.
As the weather is starting to turn, I keep waiting for him to show up in sweatpants or leggings.
Nope, always tiny shorts. The image of his tight ass and prominent bulge is burned into my mind.
When he came over for our usual night, he laid out the rules. We were hanging out as friends. No benefits. Not until he got to take me on a real date.
I guess it’s chivalrous of him, but it’s killing me.
Which is probably why I’ve changed clothes four times in the last hour.
The date still feels like a surprise, which is bugging me.
I both want to know and don’t want to know.
The only thing he told me was that I need to dress comfortably.
And be prepared to get messy potentially.
What the hell is that supposed to mean? I’m comfortable in sweatpants, but I’m hoping we’re going somewhere where they would be inappropriate.
I don’t need fancy, but after all this waiting, I’m willing to admit that my hopes are up a bit.
The buzzer on my apartment goes off. Fuck, he’s early.
Or someone’s lost, I remind myself. No hope up here. Just a very regular Tuesday night.
Which is why I sprint across the living room to hit the button to let him in. That or I’ve let a stranger into the building. Either way, I’ve got a whole ninety seconds left to get myself in order before whoever it is gets here.
That’s enough time to switch shirts one more time—the black one fits me better—and do a final clean, picking up all the stray items I forgot about earlier. By the time there’s a knock on the door, I’m out of breath, but happy with the progress.
“Wow, you look incredible,” Aaron says as soon as I answer the door. I step aside to give him space to come inside while I grab my shoes and coat.
“So do you.” The relaxed jeans and sweater look amazing on him, but I do miss the little shorts. “Give me two minutes.”
“No rush.” Aaron waves me off as he wanders in, looking around. “Did you clean?” There’s no judgment in his voice, so I answer honestly.
“Yeah, I wanted to freshen the place up a bit.” I leave off the reason.
The first time he was here, the place was…
well, a mess. There’s no other way to say it.
It’s how it usually is, but I like to ease people into that version of myself rather than making it my first impression.
Tonight is technically our first date, so I’m hoping for a second chance.
He’s been here dozens of times now and seen it in all versions of disarray.
Never once has he said a mean word. That’s partly why I wanted it to be extra nice tonight.
I’m sure he looks around my place and nearly cries with disgust. For once, I wanted him to step into it and think that I’m a competent person who can maintain a home.
Aaron only nods. He doesn’t say that it looks nice or make any other comments; instead, he changes the subject. “Make sure you bring a warm coat, just in case.”
In case of what? Another question I doubt I’ll get an answer to anytime soon. I try to quiet my mind, to keep it from arguing with me. The lack of information is starting to get to me. I’m all for a bit of surprise, but this is torture.
“This enough?” I hold up my silver puffy coat for him to inspect.
“Perfect.”
At least I have Aaron’s seal of approval. Once my sneakers are on, I give the place a once-over, looking for anything I might have forgotten. With any luck, we’ll be back here soon and making our way to the bedroom.
“Ready?”
“Let’s do it.”
AARON
Oliver looks like he might throw up. A feeling I know well.
All I’ve thought about for the last two weeks is this date.
During that time, I’ve been through every emotion possible.
I’ve landed somewhere between anxious and excited.
It’s a weird sensation. Most of the time, I feel like I might vibrate out of my skin.
It’s Oliver. I’ve reminded myself of that a hundred times. It should be comforting, but instead it seems to kick things into high gear.
In a rare stroke of good luck, I find a parking spot on the street without having to circle the block a hundred times. Excellent because we won’t have to walk very far in the chilly evening. Winter has arrived in Cardinal Falls, bringing biting wind.
“Where are we?” Oliver asks.
“Near downtown.” I used to visit Matthias near here, back when we both had more time. It’s off the beaten path, but still bustling with plenty of folks who live and work in the area. “It’s super hip.”
I can practically hear Oliver scoff at the phrase. I don’t blame him. Usually, I would say the same, but there’s a great board game place here. It’s perfect for a quiet evening getting to know each other a little better, not as friends but as potential boyfriends.
That word is still getting a little stuck, in both my mind and throat, not that I’ve had a lot of opportunity to say it out loud. I’ve imagined it, though, when I tell my friends one night at The Flaming Unicorn.
The walk from the car to the entrance of Above Board goes by far too quickly.
I spent the entire time trying to decide whether I should hold his hand.
Our fingers brush against each other a few times, but I never find the courage to do anything more.
On the way back, I promise myself. Hopefully, I can hold up my end of that.
“Board games?” Oliver asks, a hint of excitement in his voice.
“Yeah, is that okay?”
“I’m going to kick your ass.”
“You don’t even know what we’re playing.” I bump my shoulder up against him, then think better of it. Too bro like?
“Doesn’t matter. I’m a master of all things tabletop.” He gives me a soft shoulder bump back.
“We’ll see about that.” I hold the door open for Oliver as he steps into the building, shivering a bit at the sudden temperature change. “Whoa, this place is incredible.”
It is pretty nice. A bit nerdy, but in all the right ways.
It’s not overly crowded tonight, a few couples and groups of four gathered quietly around tables.
On weekends, the place can be rowdy, with plenty of large groups, often with a bit too much alcohol.
Not the ideal environment for getting to know one another.
“I love it.” He grins at me, and I breathe a sigh of relief. A few minutes later, I have us checked in, and one of the employees leads us to a corner table in the back.
“You made reservations?” Oliver asks, cocking his head to one side.
“Yeah. You don’t always need them on weeknights, but it’s never a sure thing. I wanted to make sure we wouldn’t have any problems getting in.”
Something flashes on Oliver’s face, but I can’t place the emotion. He doesn’t look upset. Part of me looks forward to a day when I can read him better, figure out what he’s thinking and feeling without having to ask.
“I have a couple of choices here.” I spread out the boxes I’d requested across the table so we could choose.
“Absolutely no Monopoly,” Oliver shakes his head aggressively. “My siblings and I nearly killed each other over that game. Several times.”
I take it off the table and put it on the floor next to my foot. “Any preference?” I point between the two remaining boxes. One is a standard trivia-based game, entirely focused on pop culture from the ‘90s. The other is a ridiculous card game comprised of gnomes and lawn pests.
“You can pick,” he says. “I’ve never played either of them before.”
I moved the gnomes out of the way. “Trivia it is.” I’d rather not spend half the evening figuring out the rules of something new. “I’m going to wipe the floor with you.”
“Bring. It. On.”
It takes all of thirty minutes for us to realize that we’re both complete shit at this. Neither of us knows enough nineties pop culture references to be competitive. That doesn’t stop us from one-upping each other as much as possible, both of us giving our answers with unearned bravado.
“Captain Planet,” I shout before pulling back when I catch a few people at nearby tables staring. “It’s Captain Planet,” I say, my voice lower.
“Are you sure?” Oliver leans in close enough that I can smell the earthy scent of his cologne. It’s new, something I’ve never noticed before. Maybe it’s the beer, but it makes me a little dizzy thinking about him picking it out special for me tonight. “Think real hard before you answer.”
I refuse to let him beat me at this. “Yes, final answer.”
“Wrong.” Oliver slams the card down on the table and throws his head back in laughter.
“What? No. Give me that.” I reach for the card, but I’m too slow. Oliver swipes it back.
“Hey! No cheating.”