Books Glorious Books

Oliver takes a quick, ragged breath. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” he blurts, so fast it comes out as one word I have to piece together after the fact. As we stare at each other, I want it to be a ridiculous question, to be able to say what the hell are you on or what gave you that idea? But it’s not. I can only ask myself how could you let someone do this to you again?

And my only answer is the man in front of me, waiting with his chin up like he’s about to be decked. The mix of emotions on his face looks just as complicated as my own.

“Where do you want me to take you?” I listen to the words come out of my mouth like they don’t belong to me. I’m leaving. But not today.

His mouth opens and shuts a few times before anything comes out. “You want to be the one doing the taking?”

“I should probably buy you a drink first.” 

The man looks puzzled for a second, then laughs so loudly that he claps his hand over his mouth. He can’t stop smiling. “We have no idea what we’re doing, do we?”

I just shake my head, unable to take my eyes off him.

“There’s a bar about twenty minutes from here that’s having a band I like on Friday,” he offers tentatively.

“Okay then.”

“Well, alright.” He presses his hands to his flushed cheeks and huffs out a slow breath. “I guess that’s that.” Neither of us seem quite sure what just happened. It’s almost impossible to believe the moments that change your life can slip by so simply, in the breathless second between a question and an answer.

He picks up his bag. “I need to get back inside. See you later.”

“Uh-huh.” Before I can straighten up, he steps closer and pulls my hat off, setting it gently on the windowsill. His eyes flick between mine, the quiet look that holds more wisdom than he knows. Then he grabs one of my hands, wet paint and all, leans in, and pecks me on the cheek. Face burning, he steps back and makes a break for the door. 

Something tells me I won’t be seeing him again before Friday. Rubbing my sleeve roughly across my cheek, I go back to work.

Oliver takes a quick, ragged breath. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” he blurts, so fast it comes out as one word I have to piece together after the fact. As we stare at each other, I want it to be a ridiculous question, to be able to say what the hell are you on or what gave you that idea? But it’s not. I can only ask myself how could you let someone do this to you again?

And my only answer is the man in front of me, waiting with his chin up like he’s about to be decked. The mix of emotions on his face looks just as complicated as my own.

“Where do you want me to take you?” I listen to the words come out of my mouth like they don’t belong to me. I’m leaving. But not today.

His mouth opens and shuts a few times before anything comes out. “You want to be the one doing the taking?”

“I should probably buy you a drink first.” 

The man looks puzzled for a second, then laughs so loudly that he claps his hand over his mouth. He can’t stop smiling. “We have no idea what we’re doing, do we?”

I just shake my head, unable to take my eyes off him.

“There’s a bar about twenty minutes from here that’s having a band I like on Friday,” he offers tentatively.

“Okay then.”

“Well, alright.” He presses his hands to his flushed cheeks and huffs out a slow breath. “I guess that’s that.” Neither of us seem quite sure what just happened. It’s almost impossible to believe the moments that change your life can slip by so simply, in the breathless second between a question and an answer.

He picks up his bag. “I need to get back inside. See you later.”

“Uh-huh.” Before I can straighten up, he steps closer and pulls my hat off, setting it gently on the windowsill. His eyes flick between mine, the quiet look that holds more wisdom than he knows. Then he grabs one of my hands, wet paint and all, leans in, and pecks me on the cheek. Face burning, he steps back and makes a break for the door. 

Something tells me I won’t be seeing him again before Friday. Rubbing my sleeve roughly across my cheek, I go back to work.