Up & Out - Ariella Papa [105]
“Not at all.” He gets two lemon-drop shots and sits next to me at the bar. We swivel in our stools to face each other. We clink glasses and do our shots.
“Another?” He raises an eyebrow. “I know the bartender.”
“Maybe in a bit.”
“Yeah, we don’t even need alcohol. Okay, maybe I’ll just get another beer, you’ve still got a lot of yours.”
“I’m slowing down.” We chat at the bar, keeping our stools turned toward each other. He approves of all the songs I play on the jukebox. He tells me all about some of the specials he makes and how he has other people taste them, if they eat meat. Every once in a while he touches my knee to emphasize certain points, but it’s very light and not lecherous at all. I want him to keep making points.
“Do you want to go for a walk?”
“Oh.” I look at my watch. It’s almost one o’clock. “You know, I should go.”
“Oh, no, just forget it, aah, let’s stay.” He looks crestfallen. “Forget I said anything.”
“Well, where would we go?”
“We’ve got a whole city.” Is he trying to get me to go home with him or something? I guess that would solve my Tommy/Nanny issue. No, I can’t do that. He could be a crazy.
“I can’t go walking with you, you could be a psycho.”
“Hey, Will, am I a psycho?” he shouts to the bartender.
“Only sometimes.” I laugh.
“You see, it backfires.”
“No, really, I’m not, but forget it, we can stay. It’s safe here. Just don’t go home yet.” I want to kiss him again, a lot.
“Okay, let’s go for a walk.”
“Cool.”
We walk east over to Little Italy and Chinatown. He stops at a small restaurant and buys a fried veggie pocket. I’m full, but I take the bite he offers.
“That’s delicious, but the oil is probably just as bad as the meat.”
“Yeah, but nothing got killed.” I nod, and then I’m sure that he is not a psycho. It’s my gut feeling and I trust it.
We walk for a while. We talk about everything. It’s been so long since I talked to anyone like this, since I listened to so many interesting stories. There are tons of people out, but it’s a whole new vibe. Usually at this time I would be home or going home in a cab. Tonight, I suddenly have all this energy. I could stay up all night. I guess it doesn’t hurt to sleep until noon every day.
“You okay?” he asks. “You think I’m a danger?”
“No, this is great.” I don’t mind letting him see how happy I am. “You know I’ve lived here for like five years and I’ve never done this, just walked late at night. It’s like, you know, it’s like it’s our city. It’s unreal.”
“And you said you weren’t nice to strangers.” We stop and smile at each other. “Are you cold?”
“No.” It is a little chillier than it has been because it’s so late, but I don’t notice.
“You have goose bumps,” he says. He rubs my forearm with one of his knuckles.
And I think about Tommy, not because I’m comparing, but because of what he said about Nancy. I think I understand those feelings, sort of. Maybe I’m getting way ahead of myself, but something is happening here.
“It’s you,” I say. “It’s like, weird.”
“I know. It’s weird for me, too.”
“Are you married?” He laughs and shakes his head. “Girlfriend?”
“Nothing, no one. You?”
“No, no one.” I can’t seem to raise my voice above a whisper and then I remember Tommy again and I just want to be honest. “Actually, I live with my ex.”
“Oh.” He jerks his head back. “Did you break up recently?”
“No, about a year ago. I left, then I moved back in for financial reasons.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“It was, but I guess it isn’t. Or it doesn’t have to be.”
“Nothing has to be. It’s all what you make it.”
“I know.” I look up at the sky, expecting to see stars, but this is still New York—bright lights, no stars—no matter how unreal this seems. “I can’t believe tonight. I was supposed to meet my girlfriends and they all dissed me.”
“Well, lucky for me you are such a loser.” He is still rubbing my forearm and then he wraps his hand around my elbow. He reaches his other hand up to push back my hair. Then he kisses me.
I haven’t had a memorable first kiss in a long time, but this one is incredible. I put