Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
AFTER
I hated dating. It was beyond awkward, and going through it right now just made me angry. After a month of ghosting him, I forced myself to call Mathew and ask him out. Here we were, in a poorly lit restaurant, sitting across from each other while he went on about his week. I couldn’t be more bored. I had no idea what he was talking about. It wasn’t even his fault; there was nothing wrong with him. He was attractive, engaging, and flirty, but I couldn’t get into it.
Noah had ruined me. I couldn’t have a conversation with someone without thinking about him. The crazy things he would say that brought on involuntary laughs out of me at the worst possible moments. How he always had a song in mind, singing and dancing effortlessly, knowing every word. The way he would lick his lips, barely smiling, his eyes shining with delight when he was about to ask me to do something ridiculously outrageous. The way he pulled me towards him, kissing me or hugging me, making me feel like I was part of him. He could talk to anybody. He charmed people like it was his job, he was so good at it. And that fucking laugh. He always had it on the tip of his tongue, waiting to come bursting out of him, but when something struck him, he’d throw his head back and laugh so hard. It was impossible not to laugh with him. Even people around us would look over, smiling, like they wanted to be in on the joke. It was that type of contagious laughter. It had been branded in my soul, as well as so many other things about him.
Mathew looked at me like he was expecting an answer. Shit. If he had asked me something, I had no clue what it was.
“Sorry, what?” I asked, flooded with embarrassment and annoyance.
“I asked if you’d had a good week,” he said, smiling and tilting his head to the side attractively.
“Yeah, it’s been good,” I lied.
Mathew sat there looking at me, and his smile grew. “You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said.”
“No, that’s not it at all,” I said quickly.
But he just smiled. “It’s okay to be distracted. I figured something must have happened when you stopped calling. Is that what has your head in the clouds?” he asked patiently.
“Yeah, something like that,” I admitted.
“Do you maybe want more time to process whatever is going on?”
“No, I’m done processing. I just want to move on.”
Understanding crept onto his face. Shit . What did I say again?
“Bad breakup? Did your ex show up again?”
I blinked at him—such a simple way to phrase the hurricane in my head. “Basically,” I admitted.
“I’m sorry, that sucks. ”
“It does.” My gaze fell to the empty table. We hadn’t even ordered yet, and it was about to get even more awkward.
“Do you want to leave? Maybe take a walk?” he asked me.
I looked up at him, surprised. I agreed, and he smiled.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” he said, calling for the waitress.
It was better outside. Walking beside someone was infinitely less awkward than sitting across from them when you had no idea what to say. The last thing I wanted to do was start talking to my date about Noah. I hated how he kept creeping into everything. It was like nothing could go untouched by him.
“So, do you want to talk about it?” Mathew asked me.
I resisted an eye roll. Fucking Noah. “No, I don’t.”
“Why did you call me again?”
“He showed up after we’d seen each other several times. I’ve been trying to deal with the fact that he’s back in the city and on my team now. I’m trying to let go of how pissed I am at him and just move on,” I explained, still looking ahead.
“He’s on your team?”
“Yeah,” I answered simply.
“Wow, that must suck. Having to see him all the time,” Mathew said.
“Tell me about it. Anyway, I’m sorry for this. I didn’t mean to get you into a complicated situation. I just want to get over this, but it keeps catching up with me.”
“How long ago did you break up?” he asked me.
I made a face. It was embarrassing enough that it had been this long. “We dated in freshman year,” I told him.
His eyes widened. “Oh wow.”
“Yeah, I know. I should be over it by now.”
“Well, I mean, there’s no set time frame. How long did you date?” Mathew asked.
I gave him a pained look again.
“You don’t have to answer that,” he said .
I smiled gratefully. “Could we just stop talking about it? Please?”
“I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath. “I guess there’s no real point to us dating, right? If you’re still hung up on him, there’s not much point.” He stopped walking.
I wished I liked him. He was charming.
“I guess there’s not,” I amended.
He smiled at me apologetically and held his arms out. “Hug it out?”
I chuckled. “Okay, sure,” I walked closer to him, hugging him. This felt nothing like holding Noah. I sighed. “I’m sorry.”
He moved away from me but not completely, and his eyes flicked down to my lips. He moved quickly, pressing a kiss to my lips and holding himself there for a second. Then moved back to gauge my reaction. I’m guessing whatever he found wasn’t encouraging.
“Sorry, I would have kicked myself forever for not getting at least a kiss out of you.”
“It’s okay.” I waved it off.
“I’ll see you around, Atticus,” he said and walked away.
I stood there for a while afterward.
That felt nothing like kissing Noah, either.