Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
From the EmEli WhatsApp group (members: Sadie Stewart, Leo Mills, Dean Gastright)
Sadie Stewart: DEAN
Sadie Stewart: Deeeeeeaaaaaaaannnnnnn
Sadie Stewart: It’s definitely working
Dean Gastright: Yeah? :)
Sadie Stewart: I swear they were about to kiss when I rocked up with Peter. I tried to vacate, but she saw me. I was like shiiiiiiiiiiiiiit I'm such a cockblocker
Dean Gastright: Aw man
Dean Gastright: But the fact that they got to that point...lookin good :)
Sadie Stewart: I left them dancing together
Sadie Stewart: They weren’t quite bumping and grinding, but I don’t think it’ll be too long, and when I said goodbye I told him he should go for it
Sadie Stewart: Shit a brICK I hope he does
Sadie Stewart: Their eye meets were EVEN MORE INTENSE THAN NORMAL and COMPLETELY ADORBS
Dean Gastright: LOL
Dean Gastright: I’ll get my earplugs ready then ;)
Sadie Stewart: LOL
Sadie Stewart: I swear if nothing happens between them tonight I will CRY
Sadie Stewart: Or bash their heads together
Leo Mills: They just left
Sadie Stewart: Yeah??
Leo Mills: Yep. And his hand was on the small of her back as he led her out ;)
Sadie Stewart: Gooooooooooood sign
Sadie Stewart: Ugh I have zero chill about this
Sadie Stewart: Surprised you noticed them go, Patrick Swayze ;)
Leo Mills: They came and said goodbye. Also, Patrick Swayze??
Sadie Stewart: You and Miss Thing were dirty dancing ;)
Leo Mills: Not Channing Tatum? I think I could rock a Magic Mike movie ;)
Sadie Stewart: Swayze is the OG. Original and best. There would be no Channing Tatum without Patrick and his moves.
Leo Mills: I’ve never actually seen Dirty Dancing
Sadie Stewart: …
Sadie Stewart: [GIF of Kevin Hall staring in offended shock]
Sadie Stewart: WTF LEO
Leo Mills: Just never got round to it
Sadie Stewart: We can’t be friends anymore. We just can’t.
Dean Gastright: Lol
Dean Gastright: Even I’ve seen it
Dean Gastright: How you’ve managed not to is beyond me
Leo Mills: Jeez, OK, is it on Netflix?
Dean Gastright: Prime.
Sadie Stewart: Do NOT tell Miss Thing you haven’t seen it or you’re going home alone tonight
Leo Mills: Her name is Sheryl, and I’m sure she wouldn’t care
Leo Mills: Not after the moves I just pulled ;)
Sadie Stewart: OK, 1. Eww and 2. You sure you want to take that chance?
Leo Mills: ...maybe you’re right. I really do want to get laid tonight.
Sadie Stewart: Ugh
Sadie Stewart: You are so gross
Leo Mills: [GIF of John Goodman laughing raucously in Roseanne]
Sadie Stewart: BYE
Leo Mills: LOL
Dean Gastright: [Eyeroll emoji] Have fun, everyone
Eli
I can almost hear my heart pounding as I walk her home.
These are the streets I use for my morning run.
They’re perfect for training; up and down hill, and with the roar of the ocean to keep me company.
We can hear the waves crash now as we stroll next to each other, though, as we climb the hill towards the studio, it’s becoming muffled.
It’s like an AMDR track, the ones Dean uses sometimes for relaxation.
I pound these pavements every day in the early morning; sometimes with my iPod, sometimes without, but either way I’m always tuned out.
Walking with Em now, with the roads lit by a bright half moon and dim street lamps, these old roads that I’ve taken for granted all these years somehow look so much better.
I have no regrets about emigrating with Dean to the UK; much as I love and miss New Orleans, I felt the same as he did about being unable to stay in a country without enough gun control to make him feel safe after everything that happened to him, and it allowed us to spend more time with Leo and get in on doing something we both love.
But Foxton itself used to be simply where the parlor was.
Now, I can appreciate what a great place to live it is.
Great architecture surrounding us. A clean, broad seafront with a clear blue ocean.
Nice places to take her on a date, maybe, if she’s up for that.
God, I hope she is. Just the idea of taking her out to dinner, sitting across from her all evening in a first class restaurant, maybe reaching across the table to take her hand, makes me smile to myself.
I’m glad the streets are deserted as we talk about random stuff.
It makes this all feel more intimate, like the town is just ours for the night.
I’m also pleased by the increasing ease between us.
Yes, Leo does indeed have the moves. No, you wouldn’t automatically put Sadie and Peter together based on appearances.
Emily’s careful and tactful and sweet, but I can tell she’s not impressed by the guy, either.
Em, I've learned, sees the good in everybody she possibly can; if she thinks you're an ass, you're definitely an ass.
I jump slightly as her fingers accidentally brush mine when she checks her handbag.
She’s panting a little after the climb up this street, and it’s making me think about making her pant on purpose for less wholesome reasons than a brisk walk.
My entire right hand is tingling after the brief touch, which she doesn’t seem to have even noticed beyond a quick, “Oops, sorry”.
I stretch my fingers to try to clear the feeling so I can pretend it didn’t happen.
Until I start to wonder.
What if I did it again?
Silently, I take a deep breath and hold my right hand in just the right place to brush her fingers once more.
It takes a few seconds, and I try hard to focus on what she’s saying about how Steve the DJ played some of her favorite songs at the club.
But then it happens. Her knuckles skim accidentally across mine. Somehow it’s fucking electric.
And I take a chance.
Suddenly deciding to go for it, my fingers catch and hook on hers, gradually, gently taking her hand until our fingers are laced together.
A second passes...
Two...
I hold my breath as I look at her from the corner of my eyes, wondering if I’ve misinterpreted, blown it, and made her uncomfortable...
...until I feel her gently squeeze my hand.
Holy shit.
This is the exact opposite of what I feared.
I feel all tension leave my body, melting through the pavement along with my spine at the gentle pressure of her hand. I'm beaming at everything in the surrounding area. This is not an expression that often crosses my face, but I couldn’t stop it if I tried.
I sneak a direct look at her, and her shy smile is excruciatingly beautiful as she looks towards the ground.
We walk the remaining blocks to her home hand in hand, all conversation at an end, just enjoying the feeling. Something in my chest, cold and empty for so long, starts to spark and glow like a lit firework.
I don’t want this walk to end. I want to walk these streets all night, just holding your hand.
To go from assuming I’d die single to walking hand in hand with a woman who was tailor fucking made for me is jarring. But in a good way. In the best possible way. I've secretly longed for this connection. I've been lonely. But maybe, just maybe, those days might be over.
Shit, already? I think as we reach her home. We stop in front of the doorstep.
“Thanks for walking me home,” she says to my feet, and there’s a light wobble to her voice, like she’s nervous. I wish she’d look directly at me so I could figure out what would be an appropriate goodbye.
“My pleasure, chere,” I murmur back. Huh. It’s the first time I’ve called her that to her face, and I did it without thinking.
Her gorgeous smile deepens. Her eyes slowly flick up to mine, and for a brief second they seem like quicksilver in the light of the street lamps. And then she takes half a step forward, leans up, and kisses me on the cheek, soft and sweet.
My knees tremble ever so slightly at the scent of her. Peaches. Coconut shampoo. Em.
“I appreciate it,” she adds. Pause. “I’ll...see you tomorrow?” she asks.
Tomorrow is Sunday, and I don’t have any appointments this time. Leo or Dean must have one, or she wouldn’t have been asked to go in, either.
“Sure,” I say. I mean, I’m sure I can think of a reason to go into the shop. No way am I missing out on some extra Emily time. And the smile she gives me in return sends a wave of happiness straight through me.
We do this awkward shuffle, and then we smile as she begins to walk up her steps and I start to take a couple of steps backwards. “Bye,” we say in almost perfect unison. More laughing. She opens her door and walks inside, waves, and closes it.
Damn it, I think to myself as I trudge back to my own apartment a few streets away. I should have…
I really should have...
Fuck.
I stop in my tracks and rub my chin, weighing the pros and cons of what I’m pretty sure I’m about to do.
I take a deep breath.
She squeezed my hand back. I can still feel the lingering feeling of her touch if I close my eyes and concentrate.
I look back at her front door.
Her light is still on.
I look at the streets ahead.
My walk home suddenly seems much too long, even though it’s all of ten minutes if I stroll.
My feet are moving before I realize I’ve made a decision.
Fuck it.
I take her steps two, three at a time, and then I knock before I can change my mind. One-two-three-four, not too loud, not too soft.
I wait.
My heart may burst out of my chest, and I wonder if this was actually such a good idea.
I can see her walk towards the door through its frosted glass. Too late.
Take the chance, asshole. She’s amazing. Don’t punk out.
The door opens. Hey eyes look surprised, but...she’s smiling. Genuinely. I’m not unwelcome.
Thank god.
“Hello,” she says brightly, “did you forget something?”
You could say that.