AMBY AWARDS TOP PICK 2023 ❤️
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"You think I can't act like I'm into you?" He asks in a whisper. He reaches out, and strokes a finger down my cheek, and I feel myself shiver at the touch.
"You think I can't convince everyone that I have f...
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"Do you fancy going for another drink elsewhere?" Ric asks me as we leave the quiz. I'm gratified to realise that he sounds nervous.
I nod, then realise he's not looking at me. "Yes!" I then say, far too loudly, and he flinches.
Dear God, Abby, way to play it cool!
"Somewhere in Ashton Lane, maybe?" He suggests. FYI, that's a street full to the brim with pubs, right behind Byres Road. Google it, you'll love it! Pretty, cobblestones, fairylights. Highly instagrammable! And, I guess, kinda romantic? We start heading in that direction, neither of us speaking for a few minutes.
"So . . . Lou and Mitch, eh?" I say awkwardly, in a bid to break the tension that's so thick I can practically see the smog surrounding us. "Did you see that coming?"
"Definitely not," he laughs. "But I'm somehow not surprised at the same time, if that makes sense?"
"I know what you mean." Lou and Mitch are both forthright and a tad caustic, and need someone to rein them in a bit. Maybe they're actually perfect for each other. "She only just broke up with Tam though, so I'm not sure if it can go anywhere."
It's Ric's turn to nod. "That's true," he says quietly. "Might just be a rebound thing." I can't help but notice a shadow pass across his face at those words.
"We'll see," I shrug. "I'm not sure I really want Mitch as a future brother-in-law anyway," I add, and he laughs again. His expression relaxes, much to my relief.
"I don't blame you." We've drawn level with the door into Jinty McGuintys at this point. "Jinty's okay with you?" He asks. We head inside and he goes up to the bar, while I find us a table. It's pretty quiet for a Thursday night, which I'm glad about. Having to scream over music or other people's extra loud voices -or, even worse, both of these things - is a pet hate of mine.
My nerves are fizzing. Is this a date? Or simply two flatmates getting a drink together, alone? Just last week he was very emphatic about not asking me out. But since the events of Saturday night, it seems the dynamic has very much shifted between us, plunging whatever our relationship was previously into uncharted territory.
I'm so caught up in my anxious thoughts that I barely even notice Ric placing a glass of wine in front of me. However, I do notice how he repositions his stool so he's closer to me. Our legs are almost touching.
"Cheers." He holds his pint glass up to my wine glass, and I tap mine to his before sipping, our gazes locking together. What the hell is going on here? The eye contact is killing me.
I return my drink to the table, clear my throat. "You're looking quite smart today," I observe, trying to make a joke of it. "You scrub up well when you want to!"
He's wearing a black shirt tonight, teamed with black jeans, and it's an amazing combination with his tanned skin and dark good looks. His stubble is still present, but more groomed than usual, as if he's possibly considering cultivating a beard. I shiver briefly as I remember it brushing against my own face, a prelude to that all-too-brief kiss on Saturday night.
