30. Chapter 30
Beau
Chance Yer Arm
Translation: Take a chance
Usage: Used to describe taking bold action, despite the risks
“To being done with midterms,” I say, raising my drink.
“To being so very done with midterms,” Torin agrees, clinking his glass to mine.
We’re in a booth near the back of a dimly lit Spanish steakhouse I’ve been dying to try.
We’ve only had olives, bread, and a cocktail so far, but it’s already living up to the online hype.
Torin’s eyes went wide when he opened the menu and saw the prices, but I’ve got him covered.
After exams this week, I just want to give him a great night out.
Well, that was the plan, anyway.
Conversation has been harder than usual. Both speaking at the same time, awkward chuckles, laughing it off, starting again. The word date seems to be sitting between us on the table, invisible but impossible to ignore.
Torin folds and unfolds his napkin. I shift in my seat, pick up the menu, put it back down. When the server comes, I latch onto it, order for both of us, and Torin watches me as I do.
Once we give our menus back, there’s nowhere to hide. Nothing to distract from the lengthy pauses.
It used to be easy. Maybe I messed things up by asking him out. Maybe we should just stay friends.
“How’s your family?” I ask, determined to get us moving again. Safe topic, people we both know, not school. Good start.
“They’re really good,” Torin says, and the tension loosens. “Mum could retire this summer, but I don’t think she will. She loves teaching too much. Dad is Dad, steady and calm as ever. Freya’s dating someone new. She seems really into him, actually. She says hi.”
“What about Flick?”
“Bonnie as always,” he says, reaching for his phone. He turns the screen toward me and shows me a picture: Flick, coated in mud, tongue lolling out, eyes shining bright.
“That dog is living a better life than both of us,” I say. “I’d love to have a border collie or Aussie someday. They’re so active and intelligent.”
“Just like you?” Torin says, and my heart thumps just a little faster with the first flirtatious comment of the night. Now we’re cooking with bacon grease.
“Exactly,” I say. “Bet you thought I’d want a golden retriever.”
“Nah,” he says, reaching for a slice of bread. “Since you already are one, you don’t need another in the house. Though goldens are cuddlier than working dogs. If you want a pal to snuggle up with, then you should get something other than a border collie.”
“I’m hoping I won’t need to depend on a dog for cuddle time at some point,” I say, and our eyes lock.
His Adam’s apple bobs slowly. Up. Down. “Oh?”
“Yeah, I’m hoping someone will sign on to do that full-time. Maybe someone tall, smart, handsome as all get out. Cute butt.” I can’t contain my grin. “Know anyone?”
The color hits him fast—neck first, then his cheeks.
“I’ll keep an eye out,” he mumbles, still terrible at accepting compliments.
I swallow hard, lick my lips, legs bouncing under the table.
“Just put those eyes on the mirror, and I think you’ll find what I’m looking for,” I say and dip some bread in olive oil and take a bite, giving myself a minute. He needs one, too. Even his ears are red now.
If I’m going to do this, really do this, I can’t keep hiding behind jokes and half-measures. I don’t want us to walk away from this table without him understanding just how much I want to be with him.
“So,” I say, rolling my glass between my fingers, watching the liquid catch the candlelight, “you know I dated a woman for years and have never had a boyfriend before. But you haven’t told me much about who you dated before me.”
The second it leaves my mouth, I feel it. The shift.
His eyes go wide, and it hits me what I’ve just said. Before me.
“I just mean,” I sputter, trying to course correct, “we’re on a date. Not that we’re dating. I didn’t mean that—” I sigh, running a hand down my face as heat floods mine now. “I was so smooth until just now.”
Torin laughs. Properly laughs. “Nah, it’s okay,” he says. “It just took me by surprise. I’m not opposed to the terminology you used.”
My heart thumps so hard I can hear the blood pumping in my ears. Does that mean that we are, in fact, dating? I’m not going to press my luck and ask for clarification. Not yet…
“Okay, good,” I say. I can play this cool. “That’s… good.”
Smooth. So smooth.
“To answer your question,” he says, rescuing me, “I’ve only had one serious boyfriend. Dated for a few months here and there, but I was never in love until James.”
“Wow,” I say. “Love.”
I’ve never been in love. The way I feel about Torin is the closest I’ve ever come, but after my sputtering nonsense a moment ago, I decide now isn’t the time to mention it.
“Aye,” he says, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty, something more guarded. “At least I thought I was. Now I’m not so sure.”
“Sorry,” I say, “I don’t know why I brought this up.
I’m curious, but it’s our first official date, so maybe it’s not the time.
” I dab at my mouth, needing something to do with my hands, averting my eyes as I carefully place the linen back in my lap.
I finally get him here on a proper date, and this is what I do with it?
Why did I ask about his ex? My jumbled brain missed the memo about how to act on a first date, apparently.
I want to know everything about him, of course, but he doesn’t need to relive this right now. God, I’m terrible at this.
“No, it’s alright,” he says, but he sounds unsure. “I might as well get this out.”
He takes a sip of his drink, steeling himself.
“I dated a guy named James for a year during my master’s in Inverness,” he says. “I was head over heels. I thought he was, too.”
He takes another sip, his hand shaking ever so slightly. I find one of his legs with mine under the table and press against him. He presses back, and his eyes grow distant like he’s reliving a memory as he tells me about the year they spent together.
“Then two weeks before classes began, he texted me and said he was staying in London.” He pauses. “I thought he was the one…”
I reach across the table and grab his hand, unsure if it’s the right thing to do, but his fingers curl around mine straight away. I want to support him as he talks about the shitbag who broke his heart. The shitbag I brought up. Now I’m mad at myself in addition to this James person.
“I probably should’ve seen it coming,” he says, squeezing my hand as he comes back to himself. “Even Freya knew before I did. Said he’d been using me.”
I run a thumb over his knuckles as he takes another sip of his drink. “That’s—” I start, then stop, because nothing I was about to say would be enough.
“He broke it off. Now I only hear from him if he wants help with his studies.”
My jaw tightens and I lean back, one hand still holding his, the other balled into a shaking fist under the table.
“He broke up with you via text message and still asks you to tutor him?” I ask. “Where does the rat bastard stockpile so much audacity? Does he own a warehouse or something?”
Torin laughs at my outburst, and the tension in my chest eases but doesn’t subside completely.
“Don’t worry,” he says, still chuckling. “I don’t respond to him often. When I do, I usually point him in the wrong direction.”
“You sly dog,” I say. “Good for you.”
“Anyway,” he says, mood lighter now. “This is the first date I’ve been on since then. And it’s one I didn’t think I’d ever go on.”
“Because you’re hesitant to start another relationship with a classmate,” I say, the pieces clicking into place. “Especially one from another country.”
“In part,” Torin admits, popping an olive into his mouth. “I also didn’t know what you wanted.”
“Me blowing you didn’t make it clear enough?” I ask, trying to sound like I’m kidding but actually needing the clarity.
“I sort of assumed it was a friends-with-benefits thing,” he says. “I was pleasantly surprised when you called and asked me out.”
This feels like the right moment to take Maeve’s advice.
“Torin, I need to tell you something,” I say, looking him in those beautiful green eyes.
He braces himself, so I dive right in. “I’ve been attracted to you since the day we met.
That’s why I behaved like an asshat that first day.
If I’m into someone, I have no clue what to do with myself.
Even when you were a jerk to me in class, I still thought you were smart and hot.
It was maddening. Then we started spending more time together, and as I’ve gotten to know you, it’s only made me want you more. ”
His eyes go wide before he blinks in rapid succession, his parted lips confirming I haven’t done a good job of showing him how I feel. Friends with benefits? God, I’m the worst.
“Torin, why would I spend Christmas and Hogmanay with your family and make out with you multiple times if I weren’t interested?”
“I thought you just liked the holidays!” he shouts in a whisper, and my eyes go wide. “I thought I was a convenient way for you to have one of your Hallmark movie moments!”
“And Burns Night?” I ask.
“Again, I assumed it was just physical.”
I sit back in my seat, reeling. I’m generally aware of my romantic shortcomings, but I didn’t realize it was this bad.
“Torin, let me be clear here,” I say, leaning toward him again.
“I am incredibly into you. I kissed you over the holidays because I wanted to, not to try to live in a fantasy. And this goes well beyond the physical for me. I want to take you on dates, I want to kiss you a million times, I want to take you to my bedroom and show you even more of what you were missing before you knew me.”
He chokes on his drink. “Easy there,” I murmur, pushing his water glass toward him. After a few sips, he nods, a little breathless, gesturing for me to keep going.
I take a breath. Slow it down.