by N. R. Walker
He nodded and cupped my face before pressing his lips to mine once more. “‘Parting is such sweet sorrow,’” he whispered, quoting Shakespeare as he walked to the gate.
I couldn’t let him beat me. “‘The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again.’”
Jordan stopped and turned, put his hand to his heart, and groaned. “And he quotes Dickens? My heart, my heart!”
I laughed and he shot me a grin before he got in the Uber. I waved goodbye and closed the door, my smile lingering. I put my fingers to my lips, still feeling the ghost of his kiss, and I laughed.
My heart, my heart, indeed.
Chapter Eleven
Jordan
“He quoted Dickens!”
Merry gasped and narrowed her eyes at me. “That motherfucker.”
“I know!” I swooned—again—pretty sure I was still grinning and damn sure my feet hadn’t touched the ground yet.
Merry and I were at work, cataloguing new arrivals, and we had the science of talking-whilst-working down to such an art that Mrs Mullhearn couldn’t get mad at our constant yabbering because truthfully, we got more work done the more we talked. We were making short work of the books while I gave Merry all the details about my weekend.
“And how did Angus’ date night go?”
“Well, he has that sated-swagger thing going on and a smile that reminds me of that time we all ate hash brownies and did the Ru Paul’s Drag Race marathon.”
Merry snorted so loud it scared me. “Sorry,” she said with a laugh.
I had my hand to my heart. “Jesus, warn a guy next time.”
“Do you remember that time you, me, and Angus got really drunk on champagne with Midori on Saint Patrick’s Day and Angus bought those space cakes,” she said, still chuckling.
“Oh my God. Last time he ever trusts an Irish guy dressed as a Leprechaun selling four-leaf-clover-shaped edibles,” I said, laughing.
“He was so funny.”
“He’s seeing them again this weekend,” I said. “His couple. They have such a great time with him apparently, they’ve cleared their schedules to do it again.”
“How long has he been seeing them?”
“For six months or so, just whenever the need arises.”
“As long as he’s happy,” Merry said. “And that they treat him right.”
“Mmm,” I agreed. “What about you, Merry? Are you happy?”
“I am.” She put the book she was holding on top of the final pile. “I can live vicariously through you and your new romance, all from the comfort of my couch in my PJs and messy hair. It’s all I need.”
“If you wanted—”
“If you finish that sentence, Jordan O’Neill, I will forever associate you with my mother and her velociraptor colony of people who think I need someone to make myself complete. I am very happily single and free to do whatever the hell I want, whenever I damn well want to.”
I put my hand up in surrender. “Uh, yeah, I was just going to say if you want to come over anytime, I’ll have Angus get some more brownies and we can do a Great British Bake Off marathon and order take out and eat ice cream. From the comfort of our couch in our PJs and messy hair.”
She glared at me and slid the pile of books onto her trolley. “You were not going to say that at all, you lying liar who lies.”
I laughed. “Well, no. I wasn’t. But your mum’s colony of velociraptor people scares the bejeezus out of me.”
“You and me both,” she said, wheeling her trolley to the door. “But that invite might be good for Hennessy to do the meeting-of-friends thing you talked about.”
I loaded up my trolley, smiling at the thought of seeing Hennessy again this afternoon on the bus. We’d talked on the phone twice yesterday, once when he called when I was in aisle three of the supermarket having a conversation with Mr Collins, a guy who frequents the library, about the importance of psyllium husk in a man’s diet—which, believe me, was promptly added to my list of things I never needed to know—and Hennessy had laughed for a solid minute, and then I called him last night. I totally did not call him when I was lying in bed just to hear the sound of his voice. It just so happened I was artfully reclined in my room and his voice in my ear is what happens when you speak to someone on the phone.
But it was nice and it made me feel all gooey inside, so shut up.
And my heart just about galloped out of my chest when I got on the bus and saw him, grinning at me with a vacant seat next to him. I made my way up to the back of the bus, thankful I didn’t trip over my own feet and ignoring the ridiculously giddy grins the Soup Crew were giving me. I mean really, Mrs Petrovski was about bouncing in her seat, and when I sat beside Hennessy and he leaned in real close, giving me a slow, gentle nudge, she just about expired.
“Hey,” he said, all casual-like while my insides were a full-on carnival parade.
“Hey.”
“How was work?”
“Great. And yours?”
“Busy. The contract should wrap up this week. Next week at the latest.”
“That’ll be good, right? You won’t have to see whatshisname again?”
“It’ll be so good. I spent three hours with him today, going over parameters and firewalls.”
“Sounds painful,” I said.
He grimaced. “I’d rather be rolled in honey and tied over a nest of fire ants, but going home to have an acid bath will have to suffice.”
“Whatever works.” I chuckled, not even remotely guilty for being pleased he hated having to spend time with his ex. “Though I hope they know how professional you are for enduring that every day. It can’t be easy.”
He shrugged. “They do know. But I don’t mind,” he said wistfully. “Because Michael told him all about how I’ve been seeing a new guy and how I was never this happy when I was with him. So if that’s any kind of bonus, I’ll take it wrapped with a big-arse bow and a side of gleefully spiteful.”
I gasped, giving him a nudge, ignoring how my innards were now re-enacting a circus acrobatic routine. “I hear gleefully spiteful is the new black.”
Hennessy grinned at me. “Maybe after my acid bath, I could call you while I’m artfully reclined in my bed.”
“Will you ever let me live that down?”
“Probably not.”
I sighed. “Well, I can’t even be mad after the ‘I’ve been seeing a new guy and was never this happy’ comment.”
“Michael said that, not me,” he said. Then blanched. “I mean, I would have said that if we’d talked about it, but apparently Michael beat me to it and whatshisname never asked me after that.”
I snorted. “Good save.”
“I thought so.”
“So I was thinking maybe you could come over on Thursday night for dinner to meet Angus, if you wanted to, because we have the ace support meeting on Friday and he’ll be busy all weekend with his ‘couple with benefits,’ if you follow my meaning. But if you’re hammered with work, we could leave it until Sunday or even next week if you want.”
He chuckled. “I thought you said Angus only met his couple every other weekend?”
“You’re not the only one getting hammered, apparently. If the glazed-over look Angus wore yesterday was any indication.”
He put his hand to his mouth and bit back a laugh. “Apparently not.”
“But anyway, dinner on Thursday at my place is still on offer, if you want. Merry wants to be there as well, just so you know. We can order in and eat ice cream from the comfort of our couch in our PJs and messy hair, and there will be no velociraptor-colony people or Leprechauns with hash edibles.” I put my hand to my heart. “I promise.”
Hennessy cracked up laughing. “Sounds good.” Then he grabbed his messenger bag. I wasn’t even aware we were at his stop already, but he leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. “I’ll call you tonight,” he said, then dashed off the bus.
I blushed so hard I feared the capillary damage would be permanent, but I also gr
inned so hard my cheeks hurt.
Mrs Petrovski clapped and wiggled in her seat before she leapt up and shooed me over so she could sit next to me. “Tell us everything! You two are so cute!”
I looked around at the other passengers. The Soup Crew were smiling and nodding at me, and even a few random people were smiling along with the others. This was getting ridiculous, but the inner carnival in my insides was now a full-on Mardi Gras and my excitement bubbled out in the form of a butt-wiggle with my fists to my face, eyes peering over my knuckles like an anime character. “He’s the most amazing guy in the history of the world and we had the best date ever—I mean, evvvvvver—he took me to an art gallery exhibit and the botanical gardens, and then he took me to a Hungarian restaurant—”
“Itthon’s?” Ian asked. “On Marlborough Street?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
He groaned. “Oh, that is smooth.”
“I know, right? Smooth doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
Mrs Petrovski put her hand on my arm and looked up at me with stern, hopeful eyes. “He kiss you?”
I put my hand to my heart. “Oh, boy. Did he ever.”
She cheered and others clapped and laughed, and I laughed too because this was how bizarre my life was now.
“So what will you do when it’s your turn to plan the next date?” Becky asked.
My smile died a slow death and I clutched my heart for completely different reasons. “I… I um… I can’t live with that kind of pressure. Oh God, what am I supposed to do to live up to his date. Because we had to reinvent new scales of ratings for his date. I’m not even kidding.”
“Like the Richter scale?” Sandra asked seriously.
I nodded, equally serious. “Exactly like that. But to the power of ten. It really was that good.”
“Don’t you worry,” Charles said. “We got you.” And for the rest of the trip home, they all chipped in with the best-worst ideas ever. So God help me. The Soup Crew really were a bunch of weird and wonderful motherfuckers.
“Need me to bring anything?” Merry asked. I’d just told her about our dinner plans on Thursday and told her she had to be there for moral support.
“Nope. I was going to have it at home and cook something, but the Soup Crew thought it would be better if we went out.”
“The Soup Crew?”
“Yeah, Mrs Petrovski, Charles, Becky, Sandra, and Ian. They catch the bus with us and they’re very invested. They’re like the Avengers…” I made a face as I reconsidered. “Okay, more like the cast from Cocoon, but whatever. They’re very invested, and they clap and cheer whenever Hennessy does anything sweet before he gets off the bus. Like yesterday, when he kissed me.”
“Wait.” She put her hand up. “Hennessy kissed you on the bus yesterday?”
I swooned at the memory. “He did. Just a sweet peck before he ran off the bus.”
Merry gave me her puppy dog eyes. “Awww.”
“I know!”
“And people on the bus clap and cheer for you?”
I nodded.
“What even is your life?”
“Fucked if I know.”
“Jordan!” Mrs Mullhearn said, frowning at me. “Is there any emergency reason for the language?”
“Well, emergency is subjective. I’m sure what I would deem as an emergency and what you might deem as an emergency—”
“Is anyone in a life-threatening situation?” she said over the top of me.
I looked around the room. “Um, no. Unless we count Merry’s lunch in the fridge. She cooked it last night and believe me, I’ve eaten her cooking before and although life-threatening is a strong word—”
Merry whacked my arm. “Hey!”
“Ow!”
“Is there work to be done?” Mrs Mullhearn asked.
“Always,” I replied with a smile, knowing my tactic of talking until she made me leave would make her forget about my swearing.
Merry and I shoved out into the hall and she pushed my back. “What’s wrong with my cooking?”
I laughed. “Absolutely nothing. So, Thursday? You in? I was thinking of that café with all the vintage stuff, on King Street.”
“Oooh, I love that place. And after your comment about my cooking, you’re paying.”
I laughed. “Deal.”
The bus was crowded and Hennessy gave me an apologetic shrug when I locked eyes with him, because there was a guy in the seat next to him. “It’s okay,” I mouthed.
But then the guy nodded at me and rolled his eyes and smirked before standing up. “I can find another seat,” he said. “I’ve been telling my wife about you guys, and if she ever found out I was the reason you couldn’t sit together, she’d kill me.”
I tried not to turn too red, but well, it was awkward and I was the king of that shit. “Thanks,” I said. “And tell your, uh, wife I said hi?”
I sat next to Hennessy and he was looking a little bewildered. He whispered, “He told his wife about us? What does that even mean?”
“I don’t even know. Apparently our lives are now like The Truman Show meets Cocoon.” I cleared my throat. “I’ve stopped questioning the weirdness.”
He laughed. “You look great today. Love the purple. Very ace.”
“Ace? Oh.” Ace, as in asexual. I freaking blushed again and looked down at the offending purple scarf. “Thanks.”
“So Thursday night dinner? Are we still on?”
“Yes, for sure.”
“I’m looking forward to it. Tell me again, Angus is okay with it?” He made an adorable face like he was freaking out.
I grinned at him. “I told you last night on the phone. He’s more than okay with it.”
He let out a relieved breath. “I know. I’m just nervous.”
“I know, and it’s utterly ridiculous to me that you would be nervous about anything.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the cool one, and I’m the one who is definitely punching above his weight.”
“Cool one?”
“Ah, yes, with the cool name, like Hennessy who is paid to be an internet ninja.” Jeez, did I have to spell it out for him?
He snorted. “Says the guy who has the best dress sense and can name and quote any literary reference off the top of his head.”
“I’m not sure that’s a qualifier.”
“Well, I disagree. And you’re not punching above your weight, I assure you.”
“We’ll let Angus be the one to decide that.”
His mouth fell open; a look of horror crossed his face. “Oh God. No pressure then.”
“That’s why these guys—” I waved to the Soup Crew who were listening intently to every word. “—thought meeting at a restaurant or café would be less pressure on you than being at my place.”
Mrs Petrovski patted Hennessy on the shoulder. “We got you. Mutual ground is best for these things.”
Hennessy’s eyes went wide and he laughed. “Ah, thanks?”
I chuckled and nudged his shoulder with mine. “Embrace the weirdness.”
His whole face was smiling. “I’m trying.”
I nodded pointedly to his messenger bag. “Working from home again tonight?”
“Yep. Mostly coding stuff.” He glanced up the front of the bus, seeing we were nearly at his stop. “But I’ll call you?”
“Yes, please.”
“And I’ll tell Michael he’ll be meeting you next week, probably. When we’re not so busy with work and we can have a relaxing dinner that doesn’t involve talk of network security fundamentals, digital forensics, and intrusion detection.”
Now it was my turn to make the adorable face like I was freaking out. He laughed and stood up. “I’ll call you later.”
“Okay,” I said.
He took a few steps toward the door when Mrs Petrovski called out. “Wait, stop!” He stopped, a little scared. Every person on the back half of the bus watched and waited. “You not kiss him today?”
“Oh
,” he mumbled, blushing every shade of red known to man. He took a few quick steps toward me, leaned in to kiss my cheek. Everyone cheered, and my whole face burned so hot I’m surprised I didn’t catch fire, and he grinned and ran off the bus.
Mrs Petrovski patted my shoulder. “I got you too.”
Oh God.
I really had to find me a better bloody word than motherfucker.
It rained on Wednesday, which usually meant the bus would be full, and even though I had held out hope there’d be a spare seat, I wasn’t exactly surprised to see it was standing room only. Not surprised, but disappointed.
I found a handrail to hold on to and gave Hennessy a frowny-smile and he gave me one right back, but like he did before, he stood up and made his way through the standing passengers to me. He just kind of slotted himself in right next to me, up close, our bodies bumping and swaying with the beat of the bus.
“Hey,” he said.
“Oh, hey,” I said. His face was right there, so close. “I’m kinda not sorry there were no seats.”
He grinned that spectacular Hennessy Lang grin. “Me either, to be honest.” The bus braked for traffic and he pushed right up close and our noses were barely an inch apart. “I really do like your face.”
That made me laugh. “Um, thanks? I’m kinda glad, I guess, because it’s the only one I have.”
He chuckled. “What part of the face is your favourite?”
Random, but okay. “Mine or yours?”
“Oh, um, I don’t know. Both I guess.”
“I like my eyes. They’re a crazy grey colour, and they’re just like my grandad’s. And my favourite part of your face, well, gee. Just this—” I waved my hand at his ridiculous face. “—whole general area. I mean, you have great eyes, and your nose is straight, and there’s a dimple, and who doesn’t love a good dimple, and even your beard scruff is great. And your ears are slightly elfish, which speaks to my inner geek, just so you know, and your lips…” Of course, then I got stuck staring at his lips. “Um…”
He bit his bottom lip, which made his smile crooked. I’m pretty sure he did that on purpose. Fair, he did not play. And then he was staring at my lips and for one horrifyingly exhilarating moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. Right there on the bus. Like a proper, proper kiss. I wouldn’t have said no, but I wasn’t sure if the other passengers would appreciate it. Well, the Soup Crew would. I was pretty sure they’d clap and cheer…