Chapter Five
Two dates in one night? Is someone feeling a bit slutty this
evening?
I smile to myself as I tap out a reply to Rhys’s message:
Takes one to know one, mate.
I slip my phone back in my pocket as Ethan, the Taxi Mix-Up Guy, pays for our drinks, and I’m relieved to see a plain black leather wallet – a grown-up wallet – slip out of his pocket.
‘So.’ Ethan places the cider down in front of me, setting his own pint down on his side of the table.
I probably shouldn’t drink any more alcohol; I’ve already downed a cocktail and a couple of glasses of wine, and I’m due to open Rollerz in the morning, but I’m still traumatised by my date with Morgan and maybe the fruit cider will take the edge off it.
‘How did you end up on a date at a children’s themed restaurant?
’ Ethan sinks down onto his stool, his head tilting to one side. ‘It was with… an adult, wasn’t it?’
I nudge his foot with mine under the table and he grins. It’s an attractive smile. Cheeky. It lights up his face and makes his eyes sparkle. My Taxi Mix-Up Guy is pretty cute, and the fitted leather jacket certainly helps.
‘Yes, it was with an adult.’ I take a sip of my cider. ‘A strange kind of adult though. He chose the restaurant, and not by accident. He genuinely enjoyed the whole pirate thing.’
‘Did he not have a child-like charm?’
I hold Ethan’s gaze for a few seconds. ‘There was nothing charming about that date, I can assure you.’
Ethan scrunches up his nose. ‘Let’s hope your evening gets better.’ He lifts his pint and I clink my glass against it.
‘It’s better already.’ I drop my gaze down to the table before flicking it back up to meet Ethan’s eye again. Am I flirting? ‘Thanks to you.’
I am flirting. And it feels good. I flirt quite regularly at work (a bit of cheeky banter helps to fill the tip jar) but this is more real.
More honest. It could lead somewhere and that thought makes my pulse quicken.
I haven’t properly flirted with anyone since Alfie and while nerves are making my stomach flutter a little, it’s mostly with anticipation and hope.
Hope that there is life after the breakup of a long-term relationship.
Hope that I will find love again. And relief that I still possess the ability to feel swoony like the heroines in the films Jonah and I gorge on.
Now, I’m not bunny-boiler mad here. I’m not saying I’m going to fall head-over-heels for Ethan and live happily ever after with him and our three sweet-faced children.
I’ve only known the guy for approximately nine minutes.
But I feel like there’s the possibility of a happily ever after with someone and that’s a thrilling revelation after living under a dark cloud of heartbreak for the past year.
I wasn’t even aware that it was still there, lingering on after all this time, until sunlight broke through and I started to bask in its shine again.
Ethan smiles at me, his eyes locked onto mine as he takes a sip of his pint, and my stomach swirls in that delicious way I’d forgotten about.
I feel a heady rush that turns my cheeks pink and makes my brain a bit fuzzy, and I get why Rhys does this so much, why he goes on so many dates and doesn’t mind when they don’t lead anywhere meaningful.
It feels so good to be out with an attractive man, being fun and flirty, and I’m greedy for more.
The only problem is I’m not a finely tuned flirter like Rhys and I’m not sure what to do or say now.
In the bar, I’d make a sassy observation about the guy’s shirt or tease him about his football team’s recent loss, or I’d engage him in conversation about his day, but these would be quick-fire interactions as I pulled a pint or jotted down a food order.
This thing with Ethan is more prolonged, more authentic, and while there’s plenty of action going on in my stomach, there isn’t much happening up top.
There is not one word popping into my mind, and even if there was, my tongue suddenly feels far too thick and cumbersome to form coherent sounds.
‘I take it you’re not going to be seeing this guy again?’
Ethan’s question jolts me out of my dazed state, and I puff out a laugh as I thrust my thumb back in the general direction of the retail park. ‘You mean the guy who’s currently trying to win a Spider-Man plushie from the claw machine? No. I will not be seeing him again.’
Ethan nods, a smile creeping onto his face. ‘Good to hear.’
‘Are you…’ I try to clear my throat discreetly but it’s definitely audible. ‘Seeing anyone?’
Ethan bites his bottom lip and I’m so mesmerised by the action that I almost miss his answer. ‘No. I’m very much single.’
This time it’s me nodding as a smile creeps onto my face. ‘That’s good to hear.’
I can string coherent words together, and this feels very much like flirting to me. Maybe I’m not as rusty as I thought I was.
‘Dating can be tough.’ Ethan leans forward and lowers his voice, making it all husky. ‘Until you meet the right person.’
Heat burns in my stomach, boiling upwards and making my face turn from pink to full-on red.
‘Have you been single for long?’ I take a sip of my drink, hoping the cold cider will cool me down.
‘Three years. Since the divorce.’ Ethan shrugs. ‘I’ve dated, but I haven’t found that special someone.’ He pauses, raising his eyebrows, and the words until now pop into my head. Luckily, I don’t say them out loud. This evening has been mortifying enough.
‘I’m just going to…’ I nod in the direction of the ladies and do my best to add a sexy sway to my hips as I make my way over.
I don’t need a wee, but I need a moment to compose myself and also send a sneaky message to the group chat to update Rhys and Jonah on my evening and let them know that I am now a flirting queen.
This may be exaggerating my prowess, but who cares?
They’re not here and there’s nothing wrong with bigging yourself up.
I attempt the sexy sway on my way back to our table, but I’m not a sexy sway type of person and it just looks like I’ve got a stone in my shoe, so I stop after a couple of steps.
‘Same again?’ I nod at Ethan’s glass, which he’s drained while I’ve been away, but he shakes his head and my shoulders drop with disappointment that the date is over already.
Not that this thing with Ethan is a date – he’d simply felt sorry for me after my terrible date and now it’s time for him to return to his Christina-free life.
Which is fair enough but still dispiriting.
‘My round.’ Ethan pushes his stool back and stands. ‘I insist.’
I open my mouth to disagree, because it’s definitely my round, but Ethan is already striding towards the bar, his fingers pulling his wallet out of his pocket.
I am elated that the date isn’t being cut short and I appreciate the chivalry, but it doesn’t sit right with me having Ethan pay for the drinks again.
Ethan shrugs when I make this point upon his return. ‘I’m an old-fashioned guy, I guess. I like to treat a lady.’
‘And I like to pay my way.’
‘Ah.’ Ethan nods, his whole upper body taking part in the action. ‘You’re one of them.’
I frown. ‘One of what?’
‘A feminist.’ He jabs his fingers up and down to put the word feminist in quotation marks.
‘The ex-missus thought she was one of them as well, until it came to the divorce. There was no equality when it came to the house and she wanted the lot. And don’t get me started on my pension!
My pension that got divided up as though she’d had any part of it.
’ He shakes his head. ‘It’s a joke. All geared towards the woman.
You scream about equality but there’s nothing equal when it comes to greedy bitches and divorce. ’
Wow.
I don’t know what to say. What to do. My hand is frozen on my glass, neither letting go nor lifting it to take a sip.
I know what I should do, because I can spot a red flag when it’s waving right in front of my face.
I fully believe you should pay attention to the way somebody speaks about or treated their ex, because one day it could be you on the receiving end of it.
I’m not in the ‘he won’t treat me like that’ camp, because chances are, he probably will.
So, I know I should get up and go home but my arse, like my hand on the glass, is frozen in place.
‘Do you like Thai food?’
I start at the abrupt change in topic, at the softening of his tone. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Thai food. Do you like it? There’s this amazing restaurant in town.
Thai Kitchen? Have you been?’ Ethan doesn’t wait for an answer, ploughing straight on as if he hadn’t asked in the first place.
As though he hadn’t just denigrated feminism and labelled his ex-wife – or perhaps women in general – as a ‘greedy bitch’.
‘They do the best crispy seabass. Or the beef noodles in black bean sauce is pretty good if you’re not into fish.
We could go sometime if you’d like?’ He leans forward and smiles at me, the angry lines on his face smoothed out as though they had never been there.
‘I’ll even let you pay, if you insist.’ He leans back again and picks up his pint, watching me over its rim as he awaits an answer.
He’s taken three sips before I gather myself enough to reply.
I am not a wallflower. I am a manager of a bar who deals with conflict all the time, from angry drunks to blokes who have taken the flirty banter too far and overstepped.
I can deal with this, calmly and neatly.
I finally release the glass and wipe the condensation from my palm onto the thighs of my pants.
‘No, Ethan. Thank you for cheering me up after my awful date, but I think it’s time I went home.’
Ethan pulls back his chin, and the angry lines return to his face. ‘So that’s it? I’m nice to you. I buy you drinks. And now you’re fucking off?’ He tuts and shakes his head. ‘I should have known you were a user like her. I don’t even fancy you anyway. I just felt sorry for you.’
I push back my stool as quietly as possible and leave Ethan guzzling his pint. I can safely say with my whole heart that Ethan is not The One and that Jonah was very much correct when he said the meet-cute thing was a coincidence. I’m quite sure I’m not destined to fall in love any time soon.