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“You are free to leave whenever you like,” Mervyn said. “But with a pairing like yours, I don’t think you’ll need to.”
“Uh-huh.” My eyes had glazed over and the eight had become a fuzzy bunch of pixels.
“Are you going in?” Allison asked.
I unhooked her from my arm and patted her shoulder. “You guys go on. I just need a minute.”
“You sure?”
“Sure. Have a good time, Ali.”
Allison waved at me as they walked away, and my eyes finally refocused.
I stared at the ornate door handle, my fingers twitching.
“It’s fun,” I muttered. “Nothing serious, remember? Just have a good time.”
With a firm hand, I grasped the door handle and pulled.
Ayoung man sat bolt upright on the sofa as I entered, so suddenly that I froze halfway in the doorway.
A green Venetian mask was fixed to his face and the same shade of blond hair as mine spilled over the top of it. He wore a pair of crisp jeans and an ironed long-sleeved shirt that he had just splattered a touch of his drink down.
An awkward silence hung between us, which got more awkward still when I took in the furnishings of the room.
The fireplace roared with flames at the foot of two sofas and a coffee table. The cabinet full of both alcohol bottles and potions brought my heart rate down to a less terrifying pace. At least I wouldn’t have to go through this sober.
The tendons in my neck tightened as I realised the silence between us remained unbroken.
“How strong is the booze?” I nodded at his cocktail glass.
“Not strong enough.” The moment he said it, his cheeks paled. “Not that I need to be drunk to meet you, I just… um.”
I shut the door and leaned against it. If he was as nervous as me, maybe we were a match made in heaven.
“I’m sorry.” He got up and batted at the stain on his shirt. “I just…I’m not…”
“Your friends put you up to this and you needed some Dutch courage?” I asked.
His deer-in-the-headlights look was exactly how I pictured my own face when walking in here.
He ran a hand around the back of his neck. “That’s it,” he said. “I didn’t feel like coming at all today, but…”
Sorrow tinged his eyes, and even from where I stood, they appeared to redden.
Gods, what did I do? Did I give him a free pass to bow out? Compatible or not, something was clearly going on in his personal life to make him emotional in front of a stranger.
“Can I get you a drink?” he asked, forcing a smile onto his face.
“Uh, sure… a glass of white would be great.”
Why I hadn’t thought of drinking one before I got there was beyond me.
He opened a bottle of wine and poured me a glass, all trace of his prior sorrow vanished. When he handed it to me, our fingers brushed each other, and the hairs along my arm prickled in all the right ways.
“Thanks.” I took a generous swig from the glass.
He raised his half-full glass in response.
