Fight or Flight

Part 2

"Oh shit, I am so sorry! I did not realize anyone was in here. The ladies' was locked." I am grasping at paper towels, and flinging water and suds at the stranger right behind me. He doesn't take his eyes off me and takes in the spectacle that is me. Of course, no paper towels.

I wipe my hands on my jeans and back away bumping my lower back into the hard porcelain corner of the sink and I think I may fall. "Ow! Oh shoot, I can't believe I got you all wet." He grabs me by the waist to steady me and holds my gaze just a little longer than necessary. My stomach does a little flip as I regain my balance.

He smiles as he lets go of me and takes a half a step back. "No judgement here", he says lightly. "I have heard the lines in women's restrooms are out of control."

It is then I notice that he has an Irish accent, not a very thick one, but gives the impression that he grew up around others that did.

I am steady enough to take a closer look at him. He had a strong face with soft dark curls that contrasted with his fair skin and eyes that were particularly broody for a man in his twenties. He was wearing tight black jeans and an army green jacket and filled them out like he worked out regularly. My eyes immediately went to the ceiling with the thought.

"Thank you for not reporting me, I'm sure it's some sort of peeping tom law." I joke.

He smiles and puts both hand up, "I wouldn't dare." He sounds uncomfortable but not like he isn't enjoying our banter.

I begin to take my leave and he puts his hand on the side of my shoulder to stop me and just as quickly removes it.

"My name is Griff O'Malley; I don't normally introduce myself to women in the men's restroom, but I can't seem to stop myself." He chuckles putting his hand on the back of his neck.

I instantly am drawn to the way his eyes squint when he laughs. I laugh in return and say, "Erin Connor, it's nice to meet you even under these circumstances." I gesture to our surroundings.

We both exit the bathroom and split as I head toward the bar and he heads further down the dark hall way toward the fire exit in the opposite direction. He takes one last look in my direction before he pushes through the door to the ally. 

That was strange? Did he just slip in the back to use the restroom? He didn't seem like he worked here and I know I would have remembered if I had seen him before.

I make my way through the now even busier restaurant back to my stool. Beth looks at me brows completely furrowed and asks, "Why are you basically floating back from the bathroom? Did something happen?"

I glance around before replying, "I met a man in the men's room."

The confusion on her face only grows.

"The ladies' was locked and no one was around so I went in the men's room. I didn't realize someone was in there and he just, you know, introduced himself." I said as if this sort of thing happened all the time.

"You liked this? Erin, you haven't even considered looking at a guy since Blake. This bathroom man must have been really something!"

Blake was 100% in my past; he was basically the one who got away. My father loved him because he came from what he referred to as "old money" and my sister thought he was tolerable which was high praise. She was usually unimpressed.

We had been on and off all of our lives having met when we were just 5 years old. We had been pushed together in our family lives, country clubs, school events and most other milestones. The two of us made sense together and we got along exceptionally well. Everyone, myself included, thought that we would get engaged right after we both finished undergrad. 

I wasn't truly worried when the proposal didn't come, things felt the same as they always had when he decided we were definitely off about a year ago. He hadn't been cruel or cheated, he explained that I simply wasn't the "one" for him.

He had said, "Erin, we should have more. More passion, more fighting, more sex. I just don't want us to wake up in 20 years and think oh, that was it?" His voice dripping with pity as he held a piece of my hair in his fingers. I was crushed, but he'd had a point and I couldn't believe I wasn't the one to bring it up first.

When people talk about love they talk about how they can't get enough of it, of the person, of the feeling. How it lights them on fire from the inside out. I was ashamed to say I had become complacent with him; things were easy and I didn't have to think about it. If I was happier not thinking about it then I probably didn't want it that badly. Thus, began my dating hiatus.

I look at Beth as if she had just said something utterly ridiculous. Because she had. "I have been on dates since Blake and I broke up. Remember that one guy with the cast?"

"You really want to remember that? Who goes ice skating with a guy who has a broken arm? How does that even happen? Besides that, was almost a year ago." She is laughing now, her cheeks warming with the red wine.

Had it actually been a year since the worst date in the history of dating? John had been someone my gallery curator said would be "perfect" for me. He was a nice enough guy; he just felt the need to agree with everything I said. I had suggested ice skating in Central Park because it was one of my favorite things to do and watch this time of year. He wholeheartedly agreed and it was my surprise when he showed up at the rink with a cast on his arm. I said he could do something else and he hesitated for only a minute before saying we must skate. I appreciated the gusto and desire to make me happy but the guy had no self-preservation.

He ended up falling and we spent the rest of the evening in the nearest emergency room getting x rays of his healing arm. The worst part was the blame the ER nurse put on me, she lectured me on how important the bone healing process is the entire time we were there. John nodding in the background in agreement trying to shame me just as hard. Needless to say, there was no second date.

"I'm a kind soul, that's how it happened." I roll my eyes and down the last of my wine and enjoy the oaky taste. I push the glass away and start to let my eyes wander toward the bartender looking to signal the check.

Ava looks at me and says, "yeah, let's motor. I have an early shift at the hospital tomorrow"

I finally get the bartenders attention and signal him to give us the bill, it was my turn to pay. The bartender appears and says, "You're check has been taken care of tonight, ladies. Have a wonderful evening."

We look at him confused and Beth asks, "Who paid our tab?" The bartender gestures over to the high-top table in the corner of the room. There sits a small group of 20 something guys and in the center of them, Griff.

My eyes immediately lock with his and I swing my entire body around to face Beth.

"Beth, that's the bathroom guy!" I half whisper as if he can hear me across the noisy room.

"That's the guy you met in the bathroom? She is now looking over my shoulder trying to get a better look. "He's cute and very classy for picking up our tab." Nodding with approval. "Maybe you should go over and thank him." She says with a lift of her brow.

"No way, I will just wave on our way out. I don't even know him and I'm sure he's just being nice since he, you know, met me in the bathroom." I rationalize.

"I don't know about that; he seems to be looking at you with some very intense eyes." She jokes knowing how uncomfortable it will make me.

"Stop it." I roll my eyes as I lift my coat to the crook of my arm.

Beth's eyes get a little bigger and she looks at me with excitement, "He's coming over here."

I reply by actually saying "ha ha" and put my foot on the ground to start heading towards the door. When I do, I am surprised to feel a body brush against mine. I look up and there is Griff, he is standing with his hands in his pockets and looking down directly into my eyes. He tosses his head moving the dark curls from his forehead.