Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
NOLAN
My feet are rooted to the spot and my breath freezes in my chest. I can’t do this. I can’t walk through the door. What was I thinking? I’m not ready to be sociable, especially not today.
A warm hand touches my arm. Its calmness seeps through my stasis and I suck in a breath.
“Nolan, are you alright?” The concern in his voice cracks the shell I’ve spent a year building around myself and I almost crumble. I am most definitely not alright. I want to scurry back to the cottage and blot out everything, only the soothing touch he has stops me. I look at him and press my lips together.
“You don’t look so good.” He frowns slightly and I realise I’m being a total dick. Admittedly, this is not how I thought my day would go, but it’s not his fault and he doesn’t know why I hate this day of all days. I’ve been mostly rude to him and he doesn’t deserve that.
“Maybe we should do this another day?” His hopeful tone sparks a warmth in my chest. That after the way I’ve been, he wants to try again. He’s not given up on me. I don’t know why. I don’t deserve it. Hell, I’ve given up on me. The pub door opens as someone exits, the light spilling out and making his green eyes shine in the gathering dusk. I catch a hint of disappointment in them and I don’t like it. I don’t want to be the cause of him looking like that. He seems so sweet and he doesn’t need someone letting him down. I can do this. I can mix with people on Valentine’s Day if it takes that look away from him. After all, it’s not like I’m asking him to marry me so it can’t go that wrong. I only learned his name a few minutes ago so it’s not even a date. I can get over myself, and we can go in there so he can enjoy himself. As he quite rightly surmised, I have no one, but just because I’m dead inside and can’t see myself being with anyone else again, it doesn’t mean he can’t have a good time. He obviously wants this, and if I have to swallow down my memories to make it happen for him, then I’ll do so.
“I’m sorry.” There I go having to apologise again, but it seems the best way to start. “It just brought back a memory I’d rather forget.” More information than I want to give, but I need to explain why I balked like a horse at a water jump. “But I’m fine now.” I cover his hand where it’s still resting on my arm with my own and attempt a smile. “Shall we go in?”
The way his face brightens catches in my throat. He is very cute. If I can forget what day it is, and of course all the balloons, the music, lots of happy couples, then I might enjoy myself.
I hold my breath as I enter the pub. After the balloon arch outside I’m expecting over-the-top and garish decorations, but it’s a lot more subtle than that. I can breathe normally. There’s a dining area to one side which has a lot of balloons, and there are a number of tables, several of them set for two, most already occupied. These look romantic, with flower decorations, and despite the fact that I want to avoid them, I have to admit they look very pretty. There are some larger tables where groups of people are sharing which aren’t so heavily decorated.
Along one side of the dining area is a long table heaving with buffet food. A few people are making their way along it.
The other area of the pub looks, well... normal, with comfortable seating and a cheery open fire. I direct Uli to the bar so I can buy him a drink—it’s the very least I can do—but before I can ask him what he wants, he directs the same question at me.
“I was going to ask you what you wanted,” I say after we’ve placed our orders, both opting for a local beer, an IPA called Legacy.
“I invited you here so I’m buying tonight,” he says. And then adds with a small smile, “You can buy next time.”
His assurance that there might be a next time brings that warm feeling back, but then my throat goes dry. He’ll never want to see me again if he ever discovers how broken I am, that I’m no good for anyone anymore. Do I want to see him again? I don’t know. I feel very drawn to him, his cheerful smile and his emerald eyes. The calmness I felt when he laid his hand on my arm was soothing, but I’m ruined, so seeing each other would be a bad idea. All I want to do is help him enjoy this evening, so no being miserable, and certainly no talking about myself.
“Would you like to sit over here?” I gesture to the tables romantically set for two.
He huffs a laugh. “I think that might be moving a little fast. Perhaps this would be more appropriate.” He points to the undecorated side of the pub, and a table to one side of the fire.
“Well, you’re the one who invited me out on Valentine’s Day.” It’s a poor attempt at humour but he laughs heartily, showing a row of neat white teeth, his sparkling eyes crinkling at the corners. It’s the sort of smile that would show dimples. I bet he has dimples under his tidy beard, though it’s a good thing I can’t see them if he does. I don’t think I’d be able to resist dimples. I appreciate him laughing like I’m the funniest man on earth and my shoulders drop, the tension starting to ease.
I settle into an old-fashioned wingback chair and Uli takes the one opposite. I’m grateful for him not choosing the “couples” tables, because this quiet corner, the gorgeous man opposite me, and good beer... It’s pretty much perfect.