Always Us by Lizzie Morton
Eighteen
Abby
I’ve spent the past couple of weeks dreaming about how romantic our first date could be. For the first time in years, there was a chance I might have a connection with someone and feelings that resembled what I’ve had with Jake on some level.
I should have guessed when I watched the way he fumed walking off in the VIP tent that he wouldn’t just leave what Shaun said alone. But I never thought he’d go as far as sabotaging my date in front of thousands of strangers. I should have known better after he dragged me halfway around the world, just because he wanted to.
Who knows what he’s capable of anymore?
It tore me to pieces seeing Dan’s expression when I approached him. He wouldn’t look at me the same, and it seemed like he was contemplating whether to call it a night. Clearly, he thinks more of me than I gave him credit for, as I somehow managed to convince him I had an explanation and to at least give our date a chance so we could talk.
After a quick cab ride from the festival, we’re back in the center of Arras and luckily not far from the hotel if the night bombs. It’s a short walk to a small restaurant located along one of the winding streets off the main square. Under normal circumstances it would be incredibly romantic, as music drifts in the air from street performers in the distance. The smell of delicious food reaches my nose, and the sound of laughter rings out into the night. It’s perfect. At least it would be if it weren’t for the now awkward atmosphere the two of us are attempting to navigate.
It's disappointing how strained things are and doesn’t fit the mold of how Dan and I have been with each other from the moment we met. We may have only met a few times, but sometimes you just know, and with him it genuinely felt like we had some sort of connection. Everything seemed so easy, but not anymore.
We sit down at an outdoor table and I begin playing with my napkin as Dan places an order for a bottle of red wine with the waiter.
“Is that good with you?” I’m so absorbed twiddling with my napkin, I don’t notice he’s talking to me until he clears his throat. “Abby?”
“Sorry, what?”
“I asked if you’re ok with the wine I ordered?”
I look at the waiter and confirm the order is fine so he can leave.
Finally losing my patience with the whole night, I look at Dan and say more coldly than I intended, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were suddenly speaking to me again. I thought we were going to spend the whole time not talking and you being angry with me.”
I don’t know where the confidence to pull him up on his behavior comes from. It’s most likely residual anger from the situation with Jake, or that I’m tired of guys thinking they can be so hot and cold. Dan stares back blankly, looking stunned and then it hits me what I’ve said and who I’ve said it to. I slap a hand over my mouth. I’m mortified and wish the ground would swallow me up.
“Could this night get any worse?” I mutter under my breath.
Another minute passes and I’m about ready to stand up and leave, when Dan throws his head back and begins howling with laughter. People look at us bemused, and I shrink down into my seat with embarrassment. I’m not sure which is worse, dealing with his anger towards me or having him laugh in my face.
It takes a while for him to calm down. When he does, he says, “I don’t know what happened there. Tonight, isn’t exactly going to plan, is it?”
Not wanting him to see the tears threatening to pour from my eyes, I look away and pretend to focus my attention on something further up the street. He doesn’t miss it, reaching over to grab my hand. The warmth of his skin against mine is soothingand gives me the confidence to sit up a little straighter.
“I owe you an apology.”
I blink. “Say that again?”
“I’ve been a bit of an idiot and I’m sorry for that. I had big plans for tonight. I thought it would be romantic and I wanted it to go perfectly…”
I frown, trying not to let my mind wander back to Jake and what he did earlier. I don’t want him to ruin this moment.
“You’re not the only one,” I reply.
“I like you, Abby, I’m not going to try and hide it. That’s why hearing that guy up on stage declaring you as his made me angry. I acted irrationally and once again, I’m sorry. I should have heard your side to the story before acting the way I have.”
It’s not the fact he’s admitted he was in the wrong for making assumptions, but the humble way he did it, which lights something inside me and fills a hole I didn’t know was there. It’s such a contrast to the constant fighting with Jake, where we both battle to be the one to have the last word. This feels different. It’s like we’re forming a partnership and value what the other person has to say. It’s refreshing.
“It’s not every day something like that happens, there’s no need to explain. You had every right to respond the way you did. I get it, I would have done the same.”
With perfect timing, the waiter brings over our bottle of wine.
Dan pauses the conversation and asks, “Do you want to stay with me on this date?”
I love that he hasn’t assumed my answer would be yes, which is why I don’t need to think about my response.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
And truthfully, there isn’t.
When the waiter has poured our drinks, we become lost in our own world as I fill Dan in on my history with Jake. He sits and listens, nodding and encouraging me to keep talking. It’s as if he understands, that somewhere in the conversation, it stopped being about telling him the truth, and became more about me getting everything off my chest.
We’ve been talking for over an hour and broken into our second bottle of wine when my stomach begins growling. I haven’t made it the full way through the story of how Jake and I wound up on tour together, or what else has happened between us, but Dan stops me.
“We should think about ordering some food or I won’t be held responsible for my actions later on.”
He winks and my blood warms. At the same time, my stomach grumbles loudly, but he ignores it and simply signals for the waiter to come over, saving me from any embarrassment. After placing our food orders, we settle back into a comfortable silence.
The copious amounts of wine flowing through my veins makes me bolder than normal and gives me the confidence to speak how I’m feeling rather than trying to play it cool.
“I like being here with you. I’m glad you gave tonight a second chance.”
“Me too.” His stare is full of hidden meaning and I suddenly wish there wasn’t a table between us, that I could crawl into his lap, kiss him and show him exactly how glad I am.
It scares me how extreme my reactions to him are. I’ve never felt this comfortable or attracted to someone at the same time. It’s always one, the other or neither. Apart from with Jake. It’s reassuring to know I’m not in fact broken and can feel this way about someone else other than him.
“You’re not completely put off by the drama with Jake?”
He doesn’t wait before replying, “Everyone has history, Abby. We’re all human. But is that what it is, history?”
How do I even answer that question? I have no idea. Is it history between me and Jake? Has it all been left behind? This summer would prove otherwise but shows we constantly go around in circles and never move forward from the past. I can’t honestly say everything between us is done, not after what happened. What’s worse, I can’t say nothing will happen again.
What I do know, is that when I’m with Dan things feel different and the pull towards Jake isn’t as intense. I also know we won’t be able to see where things could go, as long as I allow Jake to constantly be a roadblock in moving forward. If I allow him to influence the decisions I make, I’ll never get the opportunity to try something new.
That’s why, despite an element of it being a lie, I answer, “It is.” Because it could be history, if I finally give myself the chance to make it that way.
He lets out a sigh of relief, and I refuse to acknowledge the guilt creeping in which could have me changing my mind and spilling my secrets. It’s for the best.
After all the shit Jake has pulled this summer, I’m done, once and for all. I can finally see myself moving forward with a genuinely nice guy and I won’t let him ruin that.
“Well then,” continues Dan, raising a freshly filled glass of wine in the air. “To fresh starts.”
“To fresh starts,” I repeat, clinking my own glass against his.
By the time we’ve finished our food and consumed the rest of the wine, every part of me feels content in a way I didn’t think would be possible at the beginning of this evening. The night might have gotten off to a rocky start but thankfully it hasn’t continued that way, it’s been as close to perfect as it could get.
Eventually, we agree it’s time to leave. It feels bittersweet, I don’t want the night to end, and I know it’s one I won’t forget any time soon. As we make our way slowly back through the winding streets of Arras, night has fully set in. The restaurants are beginning to mellow out for the night and their lights give our path a cozy glow.
When we start to make our way through the main square, one of the most incredible voices I’ve ever heard reaches my ears.
“Where’s that coming from?”
“Over here I think.”
Taking hold of my hand, Dan directs us to where a street performer is sitting on the ground, singing his heart out with an acoustic guitar. We stand to the side, so as not to attract any attention to ourselves, he’s drawn in quite a crowd and the last thing we want is to take the attention away from him with Dan’s fame. I love how humble he is. The whole evening he’s been nothing short of polite to anyone he’s spoken with. At no point has he thrown his fame around in order to get what he wants.
When we settle in place to watch the performer, rather than standing next to me, he moves himself behind and gently places his hands on my waist. His body presses up against mine but not in a sexually charged way. It’s comforting and protective, making me feel safe and fuzzy inside. Just when I think the night can’t get any more perfect, he begins singing the words to the song in my ear, creating a beautiful harmony only I can hear. We stand, lost in the music and each other.
The song eventually comes to an end and he places a small kiss on my neck, beneath my ear, which awakens all my senses immediately. The contrast in reactions he causes in me is crazy. One moment I feel calm, the next I’m fired up ready to rip his clothes off. I try to keep my cool, not wanting to read the situation wrong, as he’s been nothing, but a gentleman and I don’t want my raging hormones to ruin things.
Maybe it’s the amount of alcohol we’ve consumed which makes me more confident, but suddenly I’m tired of waiting for him to kiss me, so I don’t. I lean my head to the side, gazing up into his eyes, which stare back with a mischievous twinkle. It’s the signal I need to know that he’s feeling and wants the exact same thing I do.
After weeks of waiting, he leans in and his lips meet mine.
At first, they’re soft and hesitant which fits him perfectly. It wouldn’t feel right, with how things have been so far, for our first kiss to be fueled by passion from the get-go. But then his lips become firmer and before I know what’s happening, he spins me around, so I’m pressed up against his chest as he deepens the kiss. It’s the kind of kiss that makes your toes curl with lust and he gives the perfect amount of pressure. His hands explore a little, hinting that he wants me as much as I want him.
Eventually, he pulls away, letting out a shuddered breath. “Abby West, you’re going to break my heart.”
Before I get a chance to reply and ask him what he means, a series of bright flashes fill my vision.
I hear the words, “Holy shit it’s Dan West,” ring out around us. I guess that means our night’s over.
***
Being the gentleman that he is, we spent forty-five minutes with fans chatting, taking photos, and signing autographs. Finally, he held his hands up, informing everyone he was done for the night and politely asked them to respect his privacy, explaining he had a lovely lady to walk home. We were subject to a round of ‘ahhhs,’ sighs, and of course some jealous stares, but the crowd we had drawn in respected him enough to let us leave in peace.
The walk back to the hotel was slow and steady, neither of us wanted the night to end and when we stood outside the entrance, he leaned in for another kiss. As it was heating up, he pulled away panting and said, “There is no doubting how much I want you, but I want to take this slow.”
Seriously, you couldn’t make this shit up, I felt like I’d walked into a romance movie.
When I get back to the room, I’m on cloud nine, but startled back to reality when I see the lights still on and Sooz sitting in bed with her laptop working. She raises an eyebrow at the stupid grin taking over my face.
“Good night?”
“Perfect.” I sigh, collapsing down on my bed and kicking my legs with a squeal.
“You deserve to be happy, Abby. I’m glad you’ve found Dan and I hope it works out.”
“Me too. Honestly, Sooz, it was the most amazing night.”
“He wasn’t too mad about Jake then?”
“A little at first, but then he apologized. Sooz, he apologized! For once it wasn’t me putting in all the groundwork.”
“And that’s the way it should be.”
“I know, but—”
“The famous but,” she interrupts. “Go on.”
I sigh. “He asked if Jake and I were history.”
“Ah,” she replies knowingly.
“Yeah, ah.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him most of the story. But then I may have told a white lie.”
“How much of a white lie?”
“I may have neglected to tell him the bit about my recent escapades with Jake.”
“Hmm,” she replies, looking contemplative. “I guess it’s not really any of his business what happened between you guys. You hadn’t even been on a date when it happened.”
“Is it bad that I’ve already lied to him though?”
“Some would say yes, some would say no. I’m choosing to stay indifferent. I think you deserve to be happy, and I think Jake muddies the waters a lot, and often on purpose, which isn’t fair to you. You deserve a chance with Dan. Maybe if he’d come a bit sooner, things with Jake wouldn’t have happened. I guess you could put it down to bad timing?”
Her words are encouraging, but there’s one minor detail she’s missing. “That’s all well and good as long as Jake chooses to stay quiet.”
I don’t need to say anymore, Sooz finishes off my line of thought. “And that is where the problem lies. If tonight is anything to go by, Jake isn’t going down without a fight.”
What she means is, I’m screwed.
