Chapter 9
Nora: #He’sMine
T he night air is crisp and carries the distant hum of city life. I find the fast-paced life, the crowd, and the noise, calming. It feels as if it gives you the space to be who you want, unlike Cambridge, where I grew up. Here, in Boston, I feel comfortable, and at ease.
Gabs and I walk down the cobblestone streets toward our favorite bar. He’s uncharacteristically quiet. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s going on with him. He’s not his usual self, and I don’t think the professional upheaval is the sole reason. But if it’s because of something other than leaving MooreGames, what could it be?
Can the breakup with Paula affect him this way? Truth be told, I never pegged her to be his type. But then, what is his type? He’s been with all kinds of women without really being emotionally close to any.
That’s why he bounces right back from breakups. I don’t think he’s ever felt much about any girl, deep down. On the surface, he’s always the best boyfriend—whispering sweet nothings in their ears, opening doors, pulling back chairs, giving them his jacket in the cold. He does all the right things, but his heart is never affected. Could Paula have done the impossible?
Nah! Highly doubt it.
It’s something else. Or someone else. Sophia? Um. Maybe.
Whatever or whoever the reason, I don’t like to see him sad. Maybe good sex with a pretty girl will do the trick. It usually does.
We push open the heavy wooden door of O’Malley’s and the lively atmosphere envelops us. The sound of laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft notes of a guitar fill the air. Just being here is uplifting and I see a smile creep into Gabs’ face.
He leads the way to our usual spot at the bar, his hand lightly grazing my lower back as we navigate through the crowd. We settle onto the barstools, and he signals the bartender.
“Two beers, please,” he orders, turning to me with his classic boyish grin. “So, what’s the game plan?”
I take a deep breath, glancing around the room. People are mingling, dancing, and clearly on the lookout for potential dates. It’s exciting. “I guess we just see who catches our eye?”
As the bartender slides our drinks over, Gabs raises his glass. “To finding someone special.”
“To finding someone special,” I echo, clinking my glass with his.
“Hey, Nora,” he says once we down our drinks, looking straight into my eyes.
“Yeah?”
“I...uh...nothing. Anyone catch your eye yet?”
I scan the people. “What about that one?” I say, pointing to a man sitting alone in a corner. He looks cute enough.
Gabs turns his gaze in the direction, then shakes his head. “Nah! Not your type, I’d say.” Then he pats me on the shoulder and points to someone behind me. “What about him? I see him giving you ‘the look’.”
I turn around and see a man with blue eyes, broad shoulders, brown hair staring in my direction. When he catches me checking him out, he smiles and raises his glass.
“Wow! He’s hot. Hurry and get lost now and keep away. He must be thinking we’re together.”
Gabs chuckles. “Well, why don’t you go to him and clear the confusion?”
“What about you?”
“Oh, I’ve had my eyes on that sexy girl in the green dress since we entered. I’ve only been waiting for you to find someone.”
“Well, let’s be on our way, then,” I say, taking a swig of my second beer and inching toward the blue-eyed man.
He comes over in a few seconds and taps to get the bartender’s attention.
“A beer for me too, please,” he says.
He has a baritone voice with a rich, velvety timbre that carries a sense of authority and warmth. That he said, ‘please,’ only adds to his personality.
“Um, hi,” he says, turning a little in my direction yet keeping a respectful distance.
I glance up at his face. He is smiling. It’s a cute, dimpled smile. “Hi,” I reply, trying to sound casual, but it comes out in a very high pitch.
“Do I need to fear that your boyfriend might take offense if I speak to you?”
“Boyfriend?” I ask and he raises his eyebrows and gestures toward Gabs, who is staring at the woman in the green dress, most likely trying to figure out the best way to get her under him.
“He’s not my boyfriend. I mean, he is a boy and a friend, my closest friend actually, but not… well, you get what I mean, right? I don’t have a boyfriend right now. Broke up with one. Quite recently.”
Jesus! I’m blabbering now. I’m too out of touch with this dating game.
“Interesting,” he says.
I turn to see Gabs talking to the green-dressed woman, whispering something in her ear. Well, he’s off to a good start while I’m making a fool of myself. I need to be better, to get in the game.
“I’m Clark, by the way.”
“Nora.”
“Beautiful name. Suits you.”
My phone pings. Message from Gabs. “Ask about him when you’re out of topics. Everyone likes to talk about themselves. He’ll do for tonight.” He adds a gif that is so explicit that I hope Clark didn’t glimpse the message.
But Gabs’ advice is sound. Clark and I talk for over half an hour. He’s a dentist, broke up with his girlfriend of four years two months ago, and shows genuine interest in what I do and whatever I have to say. But then he stands up.
“I actually came here looking to get laid.”
“Me too,” I say, a little too soon and too eager.
“But I think I may have found something much more,” he says, standing right in front of me, peering down into my eyes. “I want to do this right. Would you like to meet me for dinner, say, this Saturday?”
I smile and nod. “Sure.”
“Well, I gotta go now. Have a dental surgery early in the morning.”
I stand up and he leans in to hug me as I extend my hand to shake his hand. Then we both give an embarrassed laugh and I lean to hug him while he extends his hand. Finally, he pats me on the shoulder.
“I enjoyed this… talking to you, y’know. It seemed special, somehow. I wish I could stay longer. But…” he shrugs.
I nod, hoping that my disappointment is not too apparent. All I want is to accompany him home. I mean, I don’t want to be anyone’s ‘ special’ right now. Maybe not ever. But he has such a good body. I see him exit the door and he turns around and waves at me and I wave back with a sigh.
Gabs is still talking to the woman. Well, at least one of us scored tonight. He smiles and laughs and remains the perfect gentleman.
“He’s a looker, right?” comes a voice from behind me.
“Ah, yes. Sad that he had to leave so early.”
“What? I’m talking about him .”
“Who?” I say as I turn toward the speaker—a hot woman who is now sitting on the stool previously occupied by Clark.
“The one you were looking at. With those dreamy eyes, muscular arms, and that smile. Ooh. I think I might come just looking at him smile like that.”
I scan the room, trying to figure out who she’s referring to.
“Yup, him, lady,” she continues, pointing in Gabs’ direction. “The one in the black shirt.” Oh, it is Gabs she means.
I regard him again. His beady eyes are shining. His ruffled hair and angular chin, the slight trace of stubble on his cheeks, and his tight-fitting shirt that looks like it might tear off along the seams if he flexed his muscles, all make him appear like a model right out of a magazine.
“Hey, he’s mine if he gets away from that bitch,” the woman says, adjusting her dress and pulling it down to show off a little more of her cleavage.
She stands up and sashays toward Gabs, giving him a seductive smile as he looks up. Then he turns his gaze toward me and finds me staring at him. I immediately look away. I find my heart racing a little. Is it the Clark effect? Must be. Has to be.
How did I never notice how hot and handsome Gabs is? I mean, I know he is attractive, given how women fall all over him, ready to get into bed with him at his slightest hint. But somehow his charm never affected me. Never . I thought I was immune to it, that he was not my type.
“Hey.”
It’s him. The single word seems to reach straight to my stomach, making my innards slide around, as if inebriated.
He taps my shoulder and takes a seat beside me. This is something he has done a thousand times, but today, every pore of my body seems to be electrified by his mere touch.
“Hey yourself,” I reply, staring at my glass, unwilling to even look at him for fear of what my eyes might reveal. “If you want permission to go home early with your girl, it’s fine. You can go. Don’t worry about me. I’ll take a cab back later.”
“What girl?”
I lift my head and raise my eyebrows. “The one you were busy flirting with, whispering things in her ears. The one in the green dress.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “It was the other way round. She was flirting with me. My attention was on you .”
“What?” Did he really say that? Did he mean it?
“Why’re you gawking at me like that? Remember, I said I’ll help you get laid. But you let that man leave without you. So, on to our next target. Either both of us score or none. That’s the first rule.”
“For your information, I didn’t let him go . He has my number and we intend to go on a date. Saturday dinner.”
“Good for you. Except that one-night stands don’t work like this. You meet someone, you go to a room, have hopefully good sex, then leave and never see each other again. Going to dinners and lunches is never a part of this exercise. Ah, you’ve gone rusty, my friend. I think I need to take matters into my own hands.”
The woman who’d been sitting next to me returns and is clearly shocked when she sees Gabs with me. I give her a mock winning smile and she shows me the middle finger mouthing the word ‘bitch’.
Somehow I don’t want to ‘score’ anymore because I don’t think it’ll feel like scoring.
“Why don’t we go to that dance place you were raving about before you went to Paris?”
“Really? Is that what you want? Chances of finding someone here are higher than at that place.”
“It’s okay. I feel like dancing. Maybe postpone the getting-laid plan,” I say, walking toward the exit with Gabs following me.
“What about getting Rick out of your system?”
“Ugh. He’s already out. Trust me. He’s the last man I’m thinking about. In fact, I was thinking since I told Daphne that we’re dating, we might have to live up to that lie, at least for a few days. For you , y’know. Otherwise, she’ll realize it was a sham and make you date Sophia.”
We’re outside by now and waiting for a taxi. I don’t even want to look at his face for fear he’ll see what’s going on in my sick head. I mean, it’s Gabriel! And I’m getting these weird desires about him that are so crossing the lines of friendship. To be honest, this relationship of ours is one of the most important in my life, and given both of our past romantic histories, what I’m thinking cannot end well. That is, even if he is okay with it, which he probably won’t be. Hell, he might think it’s okay for Daphne to believe what she wants as long as he has a warm, sexy body on his bed tonight.
“Okay,” he says.
“What?”
“I think you’re right. We should lay off other people for some time and play on this fake relationship thing between us.”
A taxi pulls over and we settle inside the warm car.
He grins. “So what all does this fake relationship include? Do we, y’know, ding-dong?”
I can’t keep in my laughter as I hear him say it. “Ding-dong? What kind of expression is that? And no! It’s just for the world.”
“Ah. Of course. I know that. I mean, I wouldn’t really wanna ding-dong you !”
“As if I’m dying to sleep with you. I’d much rather die.” Yet, even as I say it, I feel my body pulsating and heating between my thighs.