Happy Hour (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter 18

I can't believe I'm about to go on a date with Chris O'Brien.

I'm standing outside a pub in the city centre and I am so nervous I could actually be sick.

We said we'd meet in there at half seven; it's just after that now and I'm stalling. I feel like I've forgotten how to act normally. I still feel like this could be some massive joke that the universe - or Chris - is playing on me. 

I take a deep breath and push the door open.

The pub is relatively quiet and, looking around, I spot him almost immediately, sitting at the bar. As I approach him, I notice he looks tense too, his right foot tapping quickly and often against one of the legs of the stool. 

"Hey," I say shyly.

I can see him start as if I've given him a fright before he turns to me. "Hey," he echoes, and when he looks at me the smile that appears completely lights up his face. It's so dazzling I feel slightly blinded, and it winds me like a punch to the gut. "You came."

"Did you think I wouldn't?" I ask, only half-joking. It's weird seeing him now, knowing what he only told me when he couldn't see me. Surreal and slightly awkward.

He shrugs, the smile slightly diluted now. "I'm my own worst enemy sometimes when it comes to over- thinking," he says lightly. "What can I get you to drink?"

After he's ordered me a large glass of wine, we wander over to a booth in the corner. He sits down opposite me.

"I'll be honest here," he starts, looking away from me. "I'm a bit out of practice with this sort of stuff. It's," he grimaces slightly, "Been a while."

"Me too," I grin despite my own nerves. "We can be awkward together. Although I had really been hoping that you knew what you were doing."

He smiles again and I feel myself basking in the glow of it. His pale brown eyes are sparkling and his golden skin looks babysoft and smooth . . . Apart from that ever-present blond stubble, of course. He's utterly irresistible and it almost hurts to look at him. 

"So when was your last relationship?" He asks and immediately groans, rubbing his face. "God, it sounds like I'm interviewing you!"

"Don't think I've ever been asked that in an interview, to be fair." His awkwardness is adorable and far from the smooth self-assured guy I've always thought of him as. It makes me like him even more. "It's been a good few years. In fact, my only proper relationship was at uni, I've not really had a long term relationship since." I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that. "What about you?"

"Maybe not quite as long ago as you, but it's been a while," he confesses. "I was in a three year relationship but we split up. It was all a bit messy in the end, put me off dating. Until, well, now…" He looks a bit embarrassed and trails off.

"Can I ask you something?" I say before I lose my nerve. He nods.

"Of course."

I find that I can't look at him. "When we were messaging last night, what did you mean when you said you'd noticed me long before the time we first met?"

That message has been playing on my mind since the previous evening and I'm desperate to know what he meant.

He smiles slightly. "You might have never noticed me before, but I had fancied you since I was in school."

"What?" I can't help but gasp at that. 

He blushes. "When I was in sixth year, I was in - I think - maths class and you and another girl came in collecting for charity. The other girl was doing all the talking and you were just standing there looking embarrassed and I just thought you were really cute."

"Oh god, I remember having to do that, back in fourth year" I cringe. "You're right, I was mortified."

"I didn't know anything about you, I didn't know your name. But after that I would see you around quite a lot in the playground, the canteen, between classes." He was fiddling with his drink now. "Sometimes I would look at you and you would look up and I'd hope that you'd see me but you always seemed to look right through me." He briefly screws his face up. "My ego was a bit bruised. So when you turned up a year later at my car to get a lift home, I couldn't believe it. The immature little boy in me was still a bit annoyed that you hadn't noticed me and although I still really fancied you I was also really wound up and on edge all the time when you were around. The best way to hide it was to just act like I didn't care, and God that was hard."

"Well that certainly explains why I always felt like you hated me," I say softly. I can't quite understand how he was so good at keeping his feelings hidden though. Or how I'd managed to miss all those interactions when I was in fourth year and he was in sixth. That's the sort of star crossed lover shiz that teenage me would have been all over. Although . . .

"Wait." I start to laugh.

An involuntary pout briefly mars his handsome features. "Is my teen angst amusing to you?" He says dramatically.

I shake my head furiously. "It's not that. I've just realised why I never noticed you. Remember when we met in the bar last week, what did you comment on liking?"

He doesn't even hesitate. "Your glasses," he said, his eyes fastening to mine again. 

"I didn't get contact lenses until I was going into fifth year, before that I only had glasses but I hated wearing them so I literally only wore them in my classes to see the board," I say slowly. "Basically the rest of the time I was walking about in a blur. I literally had never saw you before." I start laughing again. "I was playing hard to get and I didn't even realise."

This time he joins in. 

"Trust me," I say, wiping my eyes. "If I could actually see, I would most definitely have noticed you sooner."

"I wonder how many other hearts you broke due to your short-sightedness," he muses, while I try to stifle my sharp intake of breath. Is he saying I broke his heart?