Teach me to trust

12. Resist

We eat in comfortable silence, catching each other's eyes every now and then across the table. I can feel my face warming up at the look in his eyes.

"If you don't mind me asking, does JD know that you've told me this? I really don't want him thinking this is a light topic of conversation that we're gossiping about" I ask this as I move my plate to the edge of the table, tidying slightly to make the waitress's job easier.

"He knows. I told him about our miscommunication, and he said he didn't want to risk making things worse between us. Like I said, he likes you. When we first came to the bar, he was none stop saying how nice you were to him when he ordered his drinks" he chuckles, shaking his head.

"He's a sweet guy. He always seemed so happy to see me, I remember thinking he was like a puppy once" I can't help but laugh at my own admission, and he joins me in my laughter. 

Until a sickly-sweet voice interrupts up,

"Hi there" I look up to see the pretty blonde that served Nate behind the till and glance towards him, his eyes alight with silent laughter as he's still looking at me.

"I just wanted to ask if there's anything else I can get you". She doesn't even pretend to be including me in this question, eyes focused only on him. She's pretty, but rude.

He realises I'm looking at him expectantly, and he turns to look at our visitor.

"What was that, sorry?" he asks her to repeat her question, and I have to refrain from smiling.

"I asked if there's anything else I can get you" she replies to him, leaning over and slowly moving to collect the plates.

Tits practically pressed in his face, like a modern-day fucking Baywatch.

"Um I think I'm good. What about you?" he turns back to me to ask the question, and I think his new friend has only just realised I'm sat here.

"Nope, I'm all good" I smile at him.

I see her look at the scrunched-up receipt on the table in front of Nate and her face drops a little.

"Do you want me to dispose of that for you?" she gestures towards it, and I wonder why she doesn't just tidy it away like anybody else would.

"I can write my number a little bigger for you, I thought it might be too hard to read on that tiny piece of paper" and she giggles.

I can feel my brain malfunction for a minute as it catches up to what she's just said. 

Her number? Am I losing my mind here? Her fucking number?

My heart drops, and I lower my eyes to the tabletop. I hope he didn't know it was written on that receipt. But then why else would he keep it? Why not just ask her to throw it in the bin for him at the till?

He seems to have frozen; mouth open partly but no words are coming out. 

Because he's been caught out?

"I uh, I just- I just need to go to the bathroom. Sorry. Um, excuse me" I throw the words out in a hurry and stand up, hurrying to the toilets, located at the far back of the café, far away from our booth and any other customers. Thankfully.

I stop in front of the mirrors over the sinks and look at myself. All those negative feelings come rushing back. I remind myself we don't know each other well, but I can't get past this connection that I know, rather thought we had. 

I stand with my head down for a few minutes. 

I'll go out there, be civil with him, ask him to drop me off at home and that'll be it.