by Marni Mann
He had that careless look going on even though he was well groomed in an oversize hoodie and winter hat, gray jogging pants, and sneakers.
“Where is it?” I asked.
“Down the road a bit.”
The thought of spending more time with Oliver was almost too much for my hangover. But I also knew there was no way I would pass up this opportunity. So, I tightened the scarf around my face and said, “Be easy on me. I feel like I’m going to die.”
His hand went to my lower back, and he moved us out of the store. “Are you okay?” he asked once we got outside.
Even with the cold hitting me, I nodded, and he began to weave us around the large groups of pedestrians on the sidewalk, making sure I never strayed more than a few inches. We went over cobblestone walkways and through a long, narrow passage. Once we reached the end of it, we went down a staircase that dropped us not far from Buckingham Palace, and within a block, we were going into a pub. I’d heard the name from one of the girls on my floor, mentioning it was a place we should check out. But as soon as I got past the door, I was immediately hit with a stench my stomach hated.
I pulled my scarf up higher and said to him, “The smell of the beer—I can’t.” I pointed at the door, so he knew I was going back outside.
He put his hand on my shoulder, stopping me. “Don’t worry; we’ll go upstairs. It’ll be much better up there.”
He grabbed my fingers and brought me through another door, leading to an extremely steep staircase, and I squeezed him, using his help to get up.
“Better?” he asked at the top.
I took a quick sweep around, not seeing a single pint on any of the waitresses’ trays, and lowered my scarf, carefully inhaling. “Much.”
A hostess was standing a few feet away, and Oliver held up two fingers. She nodded, understanding the signal, and brought us over to a table by the window.
“Still or sparkling?” she asked, placing menus in front of us.
“Sparkling,” he told her. “We’re in a bit of a rush; would it be okay if we ordered?”
I appreciated him now more than ever, and so did my stomach.
“Go ahead,” she replied.
“Could we have a traditional meat pie and chips and also the fish and chips? We’ll share both.”
She took our menus and left our table, and within a few seconds, someone else arrived to fill our glasses with the bubbly water. I brought the small tumbler up to my lips and swallowed. But it wasn’t until the glass hit the rim of my sunglasses that I realized I still had them on.
The thought of taking them off, knowing what I looked like underneath, made me hurt even worse.
I set the drink down. “I can’t believe you’re seeing me like this.” I slowly took off the sunglasses, running my fingers under my eyes to catch the fallen and smudged makeup. “I didn’t think I’d see anyone I know … and now, oh God, I’m just sorry you have to look at me in this state.”
When my skin felt as clean as it was going to get, I looked up at him. And when I did, I felt all the air leave my body.
“Chloe … you’re absolutely gorgeous.”
Heat moved across my face as though there were a vent in the ceiling above my head. But there wasn’t. The room was almost too cold.
I pressed the back of my hand against my cheek, cooling the red that I knew was growing across it.
And before I needed to think of a response, he said, “Tell me about where you’re from.”
I was hoping the change in conversation would make my stomach relax, but the way he was smiling at me was causing just the opposite to happen. “I’m a junior at Boston University, and I live with my best friend, Molly, in an apartment in the city. I’m an only child. My parents are still back in my hometown, and they work at a processing yard.”
“Processing?”
I took a drink, the smell of the food from the nearby tables actually making me hungry. “I’m from an area that’s known for lobstering. It’s Dad’s job to weigh the lobsters when they come off the fishermen’s boats. Mom’s the bookkeeper, so she pays the lobstermen whatever they’re owed.”
“That’s Maine life?”
I was so impressed he’d remembered where I was from.
“Pretty much.” I shrugged and peeked out the window, seeing all the busyness below. “Home is quiet and casual, very slow-paced.”
I glanced back at him. He was running his fingers through his beard.
I didn’t know why I found it so fascinating, why I couldn’t drag my eyes away, so I pushed myself to keep talking. “Boston is hectic and exhilarating. A lot like London. I think that’s why I love it here already.”
He made me want to move my own hands and wiggle in my chair and smile because I had no idea what else to do with my lips. But I did everything in my power to stay still.
“Tell me about you, Oliver.”
“I’m in my final year. I’ve been living with the same mates since I started school here. I’m from Manchester, a city about two hundred miles away. I’ve got three sisters, and I’m the youngest. Mum is a nanny; Dad works at the bank.”
“Three sisters?” I felt my eyes widen. “That explains a lot.”
His head turned a little to the side, giving me more of his profile. “Why’s that?”
I had surprised myself by saying something, and now, I just had to be honest. “I get the feeling you really know women,” I admitted. “Makes sense, considering you’ve been surrounded by them your whole life. Your sisters trained you well.”
It was no wonder he was so charming. How he’d learned to use his smile and his eyes to his advantage with three girls and a mother he needed to please.
When he laughed, it only proved my point further. “If you ever meet them, please tell them that.” His hand went to his hair, brushing it back and forth, the longer locks landing in a messy pattern that looked absolutely perfect on him.
My heart was beating so fast in my chest; I could feel it in the back of my throat. “You’re forgetting something really important.”
“Yeah?”
His grin returned.
And I felt it … everywhere.
I gripped my glass with both hands. “You can smell where people are from before they even speak,” I said, referring to when we’d met in class.
He laughed again, but this time was different. It was deeper, and his eyes never left me. “Not with everyone, Chloe.”
He said nothing else, and it was the unknown that was exciting. That was an advantage Oliver had—he knew when to stay quiet, making my mind explode with questions.
Before I had a chance to ask any, our waitress delivered two plates to the center of our table. One had several pieces of fried fish with peas that had been whipped into what looked like guacamole and a basket of fries. The other had a mini potpie with crust covering the top, the meat inside smelling so savory.
The waitress came back a few seconds later with more fries and a bottle of vinegar and said, “Can I get you anything else? Something else to drink perhaps?”
“No, thank you,” I responded, and Oliver said the same.
“Eat up; you’ll feel better,” he told me once we were alone. “If you’ve never had chips with salt and vinegar, you’re about to love it.” He lifted the bottle and was drizzling it over both baskets.
“It’s the way I grew up eating them.”
Although the practice wasn’t common in Boston, it was where I was from, so I didn’t find it strange at all. I squirted some ketchup onto a plate and dragged a fry through it before popping it in my mouth.
“Mmm,” I groaned from behind my hand as I chewed. “These are delicious.” I lifted my fork and went for the peas next. I’d seen them on every menu since arriving in London, but I hadn’t dared to order them yet. “Wow.” I chewed, surprised by how rich they tasted. “These are great.”
“First time trying peas?”
“This style, yes.” I pointed at the fish and chips. “That I’ve had, of
course.” I moved to the pie, stabbing my fork about an inch back. “This one is completely new.” Once I had the utensil all the way through, I pulled it toward me and scooped up the bite.
I didn’t just connect with his stare as I surrounded the fork with my lips. I felt it deep within me, even as I chewed when I moved the deliciousness around in my mouth.
He was overwhelming my senses.
“What do you think?”
“The meat is more seasoned than I expected, and the shell is so buttery … it might be my new favorite.”
And I noticed the more I got down, the more my stomach began to settle. He was curing me, but each time I was around him, I seemed to get more worked up. The same thing happened every time I thought about him.
His teeth grazed his bottom lip, and then he smiled. “Just wait until dessert.”
Four
“Is there anything you haven’t done but want to?” Oliver asked as we approached my dorm.
He was walking me home after the pub, and I was stuffed from all the food we’d shared for lunch and the sticky toffee pudding we’d had for dessert.
“Hmm,” I said as we slowed.
Before I’d left Boston, I’d made a list of things I wanted to see in London, and I hadn’t checked many of the items off. And now that school had started, my life was just going to get busier.
I backed up a few inches, leaning my shoulder into the side of the brick building. “Probably sounds silly, but I really want to go on the London Eye. It seems like the perfect way to see everything I haven’t gotten the chance to.”
“You free Tuesday night?”
There was a numbness spreading through my entire body, and it wasn’t because the wind was whipping past my face or that the temperature was far colder than I liked.
It was because this insanely attractive guy couldn’t seem to get enough of me, and my body had no idea how to respond.
There was no reason to even think about my plans. Whatever they were, if I had any, they would be rearranged to make room for him.
But I still paused, my chest tightening, the longer I waited to say, “Yes.”
He reached into his pocket and took out his phone, tapping the screen several times before he looked up. “What’s your number?” I gave it to him, and then he added, “I’ll text you the time I’m going to pick you up.”
I slid my hands into my pockets so they wouldn’t be fidgeting out in the open, and I flattened my back against the building. “Okay.”
He reached forward, gently brushing the bottom of my chin. His warmth spread through me, my skin turning sweaty underneath these clothes. The numbness was gone, and I felt everything.
And I had no idea what to do about it.
“Get some rest, gorgeous. You’ll feel better in a few hours.”
His hand dropped from my face. Before I could open my mouth, he was gone, and I was staring at the back of his head as he moved down the block, disappearing around the corner.
I pushed myself away from the building and went inside, rushing up the stairs to the second floor and hurrying down the hall to my room. Seeing my roommate was gone, I sat on my bed and took out my phone. Once I saw the time, I quickly did the math, realizing it was just after six in the morning in Boston. There was no way Molly would be awake, but there was also no way I could go another second without talking to her.
“Someone had better be dying,” she said after the second ring, her voice hoarse and raspy.
“You will be once I tell you what happened this morning.”
She yawned. “All right, I’m up.”
“Hi. I miss you.” I kicked off my shoes, slipped out of my jacket, and climbed under the blanket.
“Ugh, I miss you more.” She cleared her throat. “Your replacement is skinny without trying—the bitch—and so messy. And she walks naked from the bathroom to her bedroom even though I know she owns a robe. If she does it when I have a guy here, she’s getting evicted.”
I laughed, sinking further into the mattress. “She was the best out of all the options. You know I hated having to put anyone there.”
“Babe, I’m just hungover and stabby and wishing you were here; that’s all. Tell me your news.”
I gave her a brief rundown of my night out and caught her up from the moment Oliver had come up behind me at the store to when he just dropped me off.
“My God,” she said once I turned quiet. “I like him.”
“I had a feeling you were going to say that.”
“Chloe, you’re going on a date. What in the hell are you going to wear? We need to video chat while you’re getting ready, so I can help with everything.”
“He’s already seen me look like death, so I really feel like I have some making up to do.” Still, despite how terrifying my appearance was, he’d never taken his eyes off me. Oh God. “How are you not here? And how am I going to get through this without you?”
If I were home, I would have climbed into her bed to have this conversation, both of us tucked under the covers, our heads sharing one of her extra-large pillows. It felt wrong to be away from her during a moment like this.
“Shh,” she whispered. “If we go there, we’ll ruin this, and this is way too big to let that happen. So, let’s just pretend I’m there, okay?”
I pulled one of the pillows out from under my head and curled my body around it. “Okay.”
“Here I was, worried you were going to study right through the semester, and it would be over before you even started enjoying it.” Her voice began to rise, filled with excitement. “Looks like I can stop stressing about that.”
I rolled onto my back, not feeling the same as her because fear was squeezing my chest. “Molly, I have no idea what I’m doing, and he’s an expert. And I think I’m already crazy about him, and I’m petrified I’m going to make a complete fool of myself.”
“Hold on. How do you know he’s an expert?”
My eyes closed, and I saw a perfect image of him in my head. “He’s so fucking hot—in that bearded, not-caring, throw-yourself-together kind of way. Don’t you think someone that sexy with his smile is pro-level at this point?”
“Most definitely.”
I put the pillow over my face. “I’m in so deep; I’m drowning before I even get wet.”
“So, the boy has skills,” she said as the room started to feel like a sauna. “That’s not something to be afraid of; it’s something to appreciate. And you will, trust me.”
I moved out of the fluffy feathers and used my hand as a fan. “I don’t think I can breathe.”
“Listen to me, Chloe. Stop thinking about how this is all going to play out and just focus on how ridiculously happy you are right now. It’s not like you’re marrying the guy tomorrow anyway. You’re just going out and hooking up and losing your inhibitions. Sounds like the perfect night to me.”
My knees bent, and I drove my toes into the mattress. “Oh God, I hope I survive this.”
She laughed. “Take it from someone who lost her virginity to a guy who knew less than she did. It was dreadful from start to finish. I’d much rather have what you’re about to experience.”
Even if she had a point, it did nothing to settle me because if things continued between Oliver and me and I did what Molly was suggesting, I would have to soon tell him I was a virgin.
And that wasn’t a conversation I was looking forward to.
But once we had it, so many firsts would follow—taking off my clothes, having sex with him, dealing with what the after looked and felt like.
It was a lot to process.
“This is heavy,” I admitted, pressing my hand against my stomach, trying to soothe the feeling that was tearing through it. “I knew London was going to change me in many ways, but I don’t think I realized how much.”
“I did.”
“Then, what’s going to happen when I come home? What does that look like?”
Silence ticked between us, and then, “That’s months away. Focus o
n how hard you’re smiling right now and how dreamy Oliver is and how his beard is going to feel against your cheek when you guys are making out.”
“Damn,” I groaned. “Tuesday is, like, a century away.”
She laughed. “Oh, babe, you’ve got it bad.”
Five
Unknown: Hi, Chloe. It’s Oliver.
Me: Hey you.
Oliver: Feeling better?
Me: I took a nap, and I’m human again, I think.
Me: Thanks again for brunch. I had a great time … even if I looked half-dead.
Oliver: You looked perfect.
Me: Sitting in St. James’s Park, and I swear you just ran by.
Oliver: Fuck, I didn’t see you. I’ll turn around.
Me: Don’t. I have to head to class.
Oliver: Have a good day, gorgeous.
Me: :)
Oliver: One more night.
Me: Feels like it’s taking forever.
Oliver: That’s because you’re excited to see me.
Me: Ha! True …
Oliver: Feeling is mutual.
Oliver: I’ll pick you up at 7.
Me: Looking forward to it.
Me: Molly, I know you’re in class, but Oliver is going to be here in five minutes, and I have so much nervous energy that I’m pacing.
Me: I’ve brushed my teeth twice, checked my makeup, changed my clothes again to only put back on what I was originally wearing. SMH.
Me: What if I make a fool of myself?
Me: I’m a wreck.
Me: He just rang. He’s downstairs. I’ll text you as soon as I can. Wish me luck. GAH.
Molly: I could not love you more than I do right now. You don’t need luck. Just be you, babe, and everything else will fall into place.
Six
“Damn it, sweet girl …” Oliver said as I opened the door, his eyes dropping all the way to my feet. “You look absolutely stunning.”
I hadn’t forgotten that look in his eyes. I was just reminded how intense it was and how much I loved his accent.