Chapter 20
THE COO OF PIGEONS
brAD
The doorbell rings, and my palms dampen with the sound. I don't understand why I'm feeling nervous, though. I’ve known Larissa for a few months, and this our third date, not the first. Why is my stomach trying to join the gymnastics team?
I try to regain my composure as I suck in a shallow breath, fingers wrapped around the door handle.
Swinging the door open, my stomach settles slightly at the sight of Larissa looking shy and unsure on my doorstep.
She's so pretty. “Hey, Riss, you look lovely.” I kiss her on the cheek and take her by the hand, “Come on in. Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes.”
“Mmm, it smells so good, what are we having?”
“Nothing too exciting. Mushroom, asparagus and parmesan risotto with a side of garlic flatbread.”
“That sounds very exciting! And delicious. Oh, before I forget,” she digs around in her tote bag and pulls out a plant, holding it out towards me.
“I got you this,” she trails off with a pained look on her face before ploughing on, “You know, because I don’t like turning up empty-handed, but then I didn’t know whether to bring a bottle of something since you work at a bar, and then I thought maybe a dessert, but what if you’d already made or bought dessert?
Then it would just be a waste, but I really, really didn’t want to show up with nothing, so I thought maybe a plant.
But what kind of plant? Because what if you’re not a plant guy and you forget to water it, or you hate the high maintenance ones, then the poor thing will just die, lonely and forgotten.
And then I thought an orchid would be good because really, they only need watering, like, once a month, but what if you hate flowers?
So I settled on an aloe vera plant because it’s low maintenance and can be good for sunburn since you love surfing.
” She gasps in a heaving breath at the end of her adorable monologue, looking mortified, and it takes a monumental effort not to laugh at how cute she is.
“Thank you, Riss, this is very thoughtful. I love it. Truly.” I take the plant from her and give her a quick peck, unable to fight the smile tugging at my cheeks. “What can I get you to drink?”
“I’m happy to drink whatever,” her posture relaxes, and she smiles sweetly.
I've noticed she'll often defer to someone else when presented with a choice.
Almost as if she's worried about putting people out by choosing something for herself.
“Riss, you can drink anything you like as long as I have it here.
What's your preference? I have wine in all the colours, some spirits, beer, pop, Fruit Shoot, water, milk.
..it's a veritable bar in here with everything I have stocked for Shari and Lizzie.”
Larissa's quiet laugh tinkles between us as she wrings her fingers together. “Um, I don't know. What are you drinking?”
“Probably an IPA,” I don't miss the flinch she tries to hide, but I'm not even a little surprised when she opts for it as well.
“Oh, yeah, IPA is good. I'll just have one too.”
“Riss. Sweetie. Do you even like IPA? Honestly.”
Her eyes flick to the wall and back, “Um, it's ok?”
I can't help but laugh in disbelief. “Larissa, no, you don't. I can see it all over your face. I promise, I won't be put out by whatever you choose.”
She huffs out a breath, and her shoulders deflate. “Well, if you're sure, I'd love a glass of rosé?” She takes a quick step forward to touch my forearm and rushes to add, “If you have it, if not, that's fine, I'll drink any wine.”
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I dip my head down for a kiss, “I have rosé.” I pull out a bottle from the fridge and pour her a glass. “It's Shari's favourite, La Vieille Ferme.”
“Oh, chicken wine! This is a nice one,” she agrees.
Raising an eyebrow I turn to her, “Chicken wine?”
Larissa blushes and ducks her head, her hair falling forward to cover her face. “Um, yeah, I started calling it chicken wine when I couldn't remember the name. Because there are chickens on the label,” she murmurs at the floor.
It's adorable that she still gets this shy around me, so I pull her to me by her waist and tuck her light brown hair back behind her ears once again. “Don't do that, don't hide from me. You have nothing to be shy or embarrassed about.”
“Sorry, I can't help it. I'll try to do better,” her eyes flit between mine, brow furrowed.
“Sweetie, don't do that either. Don't feel like you're disappointing me. I just want you to be comfortable enough around me to feel confident about just being yourself.”
“I do!” she blurts, suddenly clutching my elbow like she's worried I might pull away. “I do feel comfortable around you. I swear. I'm just nervous tonight.”
“Why are you nervous?” Why are we both feeling this way?
“Because,” she starts to duck her head again before stopping herself, and levels her gaze somewhere around my collarbone, “I just kinda thought, because you're cooking me dinner, and we're in a house for the first time, with it being our third date and all, that, well, you know.”
It takes me a moment to wade through her disjointed thoughts, but it finally dawns on me. Oh! Ohhhhh.
I lift her chin and press my lips to hers softly, “I want you to know that I'm not expecting anything just because you're here and it's our third date. Nothing will happen unless you want it to happen. Ok?”
“Ok,” she whispers.
We're sitting on my small two-seater sofa talking about nothing and everything. Dinner is digesting, the dishes are soaking in the sink, and my chillout playlist is humming quietly in the background.
“Favourite smell?”
“Mmm Jasmine,” I hum without thinking. Like Shari's favourite perfume. Shaking myself out of that thought, I ask, “What about yours?”
“Petrichor. That first rain after a dry spell just soothes me,” she grins. “Favourite sound?”
“Lizzie's giggles,” I can’t stop the beam from spreading across my face as I think of her laugh.
Her smile doesn't get smaller, but it softens somehow.
“I love that answer. I hope to meet her someday soon,” she looks up at me, and the expression on her face seems hopeful.
But I'm not ready to cross that bridge yet so I just offer a small smile.
Larissa clears her throat, “Uh, I think my favourite sound is probably a weird one to most people. But I love the coo of pigeons.”
I stare at her dumbfounded, “The coo of.
..pigeons? Most people think of them as flying rats and they're your favourite sound?” I burst out in laughter and when I finally look up, she looks a little hurt.
“I’m sorry Riss, I wasn't laughing at you in a mocking way.
Just a surprised way. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.”
“It's ok, I know it's weird. I just find the sound soothing. It's quiet and repetitive and predictable, and I just...I like it,” she shrugs, staring at her hands in her lap.
“Hey,” I disentangle her hands and gently tug on the one closest to me until she looks at me again. “I like that your answer isn't expected or boring. It's real, like you.” She cracks a small grin so I decide to try and lighten the mood again, “Favourite K-pop band and member?”
“Who says I'm into K-pop?” she arches a brow at me. “But definitely Felix from Stray Kids!” she gushes, making me chuckle again. She's a delight.
“He looks very effeminate, though, don't you think?”
“I actually think that's what I find attractive about him.
Which is weird, I know, considering I'm not gay.
And I don't usually go for androgynous looking guys,” she side-eyes me, “but something about him is very enticing.” She pauses, brows pinched together, “Wait. Why do you know who Felix is and what he looks like?”
I roll my eyes with a chuckle, “My sister is a huge fan, and Felix happens to be her favourite too. She used to force me to watch all the K-Pop reels and listen to the songs with her, but I drew the line when she tried to get me to learn some of the dances.”
She dons a playful grin, “That's a shame, I would have liked to see you dance like that.”
Larissa's playing with my fingers when Jenna Hendricks’ A Bump In The Road pours through the speaker, making her giggle. “I never imagined you for a Jenna Hendricks fan, Brad.” Her face is bright with amusement.
“Yeah, I know. Shari's a big fan, though, and since it is how we met, she downloaded some of her songs onto my phone a while ago. They've kind of grown on me,” I snicker. When I look up Larissa's expression is taut. “What's wrong? What did I say?”
Forcing a smile that isn't even close to believable, she tries to brush me off with a wave of her hand, “Oh no, nothing's wrong. I'm fine!”
I turn to her fully and take both of her hands in mine, “Riss, please. If I've said something to upset you I'd like you to tell me so I don't do it again.”
I can see the hesitation in her entire frame, until she hunches forward and quietly admits, “It's just that, um, you, uh, you talk about Shari. A lot, actually. Do you...do you have feelings for her?”
I'm stunned. Do I talk about her a lot? I can't say I've ever really noticed but, maybe I do.
It's clearly enough for Larissa to feel uncomfortable about it, but what can I even say?
Yes, I have feelings for her and always have, but she keeps pushing me away, so here we are?
I can't imagine that would go down too well, so I decide to try and skirt around it.
“I’m sorry, Riss. I didn't realise I mentioned her so much. It's just that we spend so much time together co-parenting, she's effectively become one of my best friends, that's all.”
“So you're not in love with her?” She peeks up at me through her lashes, but I don't think she's trying to be seductive like most women when they adopt the pose, it's more of a shield.
Shit.
I tip her chin up with the curl of my pointer finger and look her in the eye, “I love her, in the same way I love Trey or Torbyn, but that's it.” Lie, lie, lie. I tell myself that because I wish that were the case, it’s not a complete deception.
And maybe one day it will be true. I don’t want to hurt Larissa, or lose her, and I feel like if I tell her the truth right now that both of those things will happen.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I'll try to make sure I don't mention her so much.”
Larissa quickly reaches up to grab my wrist, “No, I don't want you to censor yourself around me. She's a big part of your life. I just need to make sure I'm not giving my heart to someone who doesn't have room for it because they're saving space for someone else’s.”
I swallow past the lump forming in my throat. I’m not saving space for Shari’s heart. She’s been very clear that she doesn’t want it.
My eyes flit between Larissa’s, cataloguing the amber flecks in amongst the warm brown. Like caramel mixed with milk chocolate. “And are you? Considering giving your heart to me?”
A flush rises from her neck and spreads so prettily across her pale skin. “I’d like to,” she whispers.
Utterly adorable. I lean down to capture her lips with mine, and she surprises me by grabbing my collar to pull me down on top of her as she reclines on the sofa – mouth to mouth, chest to chest, hip to hip.
Maybe this isn't the ravenous, frenzied passion I had with Shari, but it's softer.
Sweeter. Maybe this is what love is supposed to be like.
And maybe, one day, I'll get there with Larissa.