Lillah
CHAPTER TEN
The date with Hank was already going terribly, even before Marshall showed up. So it wasn't a surprise that after Marshall left, it became something worse.
The problem wasn't Hank. He was nice and polite.
He held the door open and pulled out my chair, and even asked me to tell him about myself without his eyes drifting to his phone or to the TV above the bar.
Everything that Mila had promised Hank was, he was.
The problem was that there was nothing. No spark or pull, no flutter in my stomach when he leaned toward me and I caught the scent of his cologne.
Even when our hands brushed reaching into the bread basket, I felt the same as before.
Like shaking hands with a coworker at a conference.
I'd tried to give him a chance and see if maybe I was nervous.
I asked him about his work, which he explained in great detail.
I could tell he was passionate about his career, which I loved.
He told me about his family and about his weekend plans, and he asked me about mine.
I smiled and made eye contact, but underneath there was nothing.
That was when I saw Marshall walking toward our table, and every nerve in my body woke up.
I was pretty sure I felt him before I saw him. Something shifted in the air, a change in the energy. He walked with that deliberate stride all athletes had, and I noticed he was favoring his left side.
I hated how he made me feel by walking toward me. My pulse jumping, losing track of whatever Hank was saying. I hated the heat that flew through my body when he stopped at the table and looked at me with those blue eyes.
When he'd said, "Fancy seeing you here", in that voice, low and warm, with an edge of amusement that told me he knew exactly what he was doing, my body answered.
My stomach clenched, my fingers tightened on my wineglass, and my skin flushed from my chest to my throat.
Hank didn't notice, but I knew Marshall had.
That was the moment Hank lost all interest in our date because he'd recognized Marshall.
Who would have thought he was a huge hockey fan?
After Marshall left, Hank spent the next thirty minutes talking nonstop about hockey.
He pulled up a clip from one of Marshall's games on his phone and held it across the table for me to watch, and I watched.
Not because I cared about the sport or wanted to see the goal.
I watched because I wanted to watch Marshall, and he was much safer on a screen than as a body across the room watching me.
When my glass was almost empty and the evening was coming to a close, I knew the best thing I could do was end things with Hank now instead of letting it continue.
"You are a really nice guy, Hank, but I think you deserve honesty. So, I am sorry to say I don't think this is going to work out."
"Oh." He blinked, looking confused. "I thought the night went well."
"It's not you. You've been perfectly fine."
"Perfectly fine?" He questioned. Probably the worst compliment he'd ever received at the end of a date. I knew it was the worst one I'd given, and I wished I could take it back.
"What I meant to say is…you are great. You are nice, smart, and I love that you volunteer your time at the food bank, which is impressive. I don't feel a connection with you, and I think pretending that I did would be unfair to both of us."
He leaned back in his chair and looked at me for a moment. I could tell he was deciding what to say. Whether to exit cleanly or say what was forming behind his eyes.
"You know, I think I need a woman who's a little kinder, maybe a little less…judgy."
His words stung. Not because he was being cruel, but because he'd been honest. He wasn't wrong. I'd been judging him from the moment the evening started, comparing him right down to his smooth hands and his voice.
"Fair enough, Hank. I hope you find her." I said, standing up.
I dropped enough cash on the table to cover my dinner plus my share of the tip and walked out without looking back at him. I didn't look over at where Marshall was sitting with his teammates either. I pushed through the door into the cool night air and walked to my car.
I drove home in silence, thinking about the expression on Hank's face when I'd said "perfectly fine".
That had been cruel, and I knew it. He had taken me to a nice restaurant and had been genuinely interested in getting to know me, and I'd done nothing but judge him.
I hadn't given him a chance, all because the man I felt something for was across the room watching me with those blue eyes while nursing a whiskey.
I pulled into my driveway and cut the engine, sitting in my car for a few minutes before getting out. I called Mila from my back porch. Cooper was in the backyard doing his evening business, and I was sitting on the step with my heels off and my bare feet on the cold stone.
"Well, if you are calling me already, it didn't go well. It's only been a couple of hours." She said into the phone without greeting me.
"It was a nightmare, Mila."
"What? Why? What happened?"
"First, Hank was fine. He was everything you said, so don't panic. I felt nothing, zero. As if I were having dinner with a pleasant stranger."
"Lillah, I'm not sure you're supposed to feel anything on the first date."
"I know…" I paused. "Marshall showed up."
The line was silent for a moment. "Marshall, as in your neighbor?"
"Yes. At the same bar. I swear the universe thinks I haven't suffered enough this year."
"He didn't follow you, did he?"
"No," I laughed, "He was there with his teammates.
They won their game tonight and were out celebrating.
He saw me with Hank and came over and introduced himself as if he owned the place.
Hank turned into a fanboy. He talked to Marshall about skating speed and stats and I had to remind him we were on a date.
Then I sent Marshall back to his teammates.
After that Hank kept talking about hockey, pulled up clips from games to show me.
I knew at that point the date was over, and I sat there watching Marshall sit across the bar from me, smirking.
Like he'd come over on purpose to sabotage my date. "
Mila was silent for a bit. "Lillah."
"Don't, Mila." I warned, knowing full well what she was going to say.
"No, listen. Maybe I was wrong setting you up with Hank. Maybe you should date the hockey player."
"Mila!"
"No, I'm serious. You can't stop talking about him. Every time we talk, he seems to come up in our conversation somehow."
"No, he doesn't."
"Yes, he does. Did you know your voice changes when you say his name? It gets tighter and higher-pitched, almost like you are holding back from telling me something."
"It does not." I said.
"You went on a date with a good looking financial advisor and say you had zero chemistry. You know what has chemistry?"
"Mila, don't say it." I warned.
"Whatever is happening between you and the guy who lives next door to you."
"Mila…" I said, pressing my forefinger and thumb against the bridge of my nose. "He's an athlete."
"Yes, I know. I was checking him out online. He's very hot."
"Again, he's an athlete, and you know how I feel about them."
"Lillah, Marshall isn't Brett."
I let out the breath I had been holding. "You don't know that. You don't know him. I don't know him. He could be exactly like Brett. Brett was charming first and controlling afterwards. He could be the same, and that charming smile could be the costume he takes off when no one is watching him."
Mila was quiet, and when she spoke, her voice was softer.
"Lillah, you are right. I don't know him. But what I know is that Brett never made you nervous. He made you careful. When someone is nervous, it means they care about what happens. When they are careful, it means they are managing a threat. Which one does Marshall make you feel?"
I went to speak but sat there with my feet on the cold stone, watching Cooper roam the yard.
"I will not answer that." I whispered. "I can't date another athlete. Not when I'm still…" I stopped for a moment and thought.
"Okay then don't. Don't date him. I won't set you up on any more blind dates either, unless I'm asked."
"Good, thank you."
"Now go pet your dog, have a glass of water, and get some rest."
"Night."
I hung up my phone and sat there enjoying the quiet. Once Cooper and I went inside, I locked the door, and we both headed upstairs. I climbed into bed after changing into my t-shirt and shorts, and Cooper settled against my legs.
I lay in the dark, thinking about my conversation with Mila.
Nervous versus careful. I'd not considered that.
Brett had never made me nervous, not even when we first started dating.
More often than not, he'd made me watchful, alert, and hyper-vigilant.
I was always scanning for danger, reading every shift in his mood.
Marshall made me nervous. My hands shook and my body hummed when he was near. The two feelings had the same physical symptoms, but weren't the same thing at all.
The next morning, I was walking Cooper around the block. We were doing our usual morning loop, which he loved. I had my coffee in a travel mug. The air was cool, and the leaves on the maples along the street had turned gold and orange overnight.
Cooper was sniffing a mailbox post when Marshall appeared on my left, falling into step beside me like we'd been walking together every morning for years.
I stopped, but Cooper kept walking and the leash went taut between us.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Walking."
He wore his gray Enforcer sweatpants and a team t-shirt and his hands were in his pockets. He didn't have a coffee, his phone, or earbuds. His hair was messy, and there was a shadow of stubble on his jaw that wasn't there the last time I'd seen him this close. He looked tired.
"I was wondering if you'd like to come over for coffee?" he questioned.
"Why?"