Happy Hour (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter 21

It's amazing how quickly life can change. Three weeks ago Chris O'Brien was just a memory. A schoolgirl crush, not even a former flame really. But since that chance encounter on Glasgow Green, it's as if everything has went in to overdrive. I can't really explain it, my life was fine before, don't get me wrong, but it's as if it was in black and white and now it's in high definition colour. 

I've never fallen this fast, this quickly for anyone in my life before . . . Well, except teenage Chris, I guess. But that was a crush and this . . . This is something brand new and precious. This is me falling for him now, actually having witnessed the real him, not the youth who kept his feelings hidden from me. And I know I've barely scratched the surface but the need to know him better, to see what makes him tick, is addictive and bordering on obsessive.

It feels this is mutual as I've barely woken the next day before he texts me.

Morning gorgeous. Hope you slept well. x

My bedroom feels suddenly awash with sunlight, even though it's pissing it down outside. Teenage Em inside is nudging me excitedly. Christopher O'Brien has your phone number, she's screeching in my ear. He thinks you're gorgeous. 

I tell her to calm the fuck down, reply to Chris, and then go to find Paige.

She's lying on the couch with a sheet face mask on. Why do those things always look so terrifying? She sits up immediately when I come in. 

"I'm so sorry about Glen Coe," she begins but I shake my head.

"It's okay, I understand," I say. "Anyway, I've managed to get a replacement for you." I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face. 

"Who?" Paige rips the mask off and follows me into the kitchen. "What aren't you telling me, Em?"

"Chris is going to come with me," I say sheepishly. I realise this will probably come as a bit of a shock given I hadn't told her about the messages, or the date. I just hadn't wanted to say it out loud in case I somehow jinxed things before it happened. Now, however, I am definitely ready to spill.

Her mouth drops open as I fill her in on the events of the past few days. "This is amazing!" She gasps. "I told you he still liked you." She is actually jumping up and down and hugging herself in delight. "Aw, the idea that he had already been pining for you before you even knew he existed . . . It's like classic romcom material."

I can't help but laugh at her behaviour, but there's no denying how happy I feel, and how delighted she is for me. That's true friendship right there.

"So tell me about your acting job." Friendship goes both ways after all. And this gig she's secured has inadvertently given me the opportunity to have an overnight stay with Chris in a nice hotel.

And that is something I'm seriously looking forward to.

I daydream through the day. Focusing on anything is virtually impossible, which is unfortunate given that I have to work tonight.

As expected, I'm a disaster. I trip over a chair. I drop two glasses. I'm glad Chris isn't here to witness my clumsiness, but I also wish he was here. I've already became way too used to his presence, which is ridiculous. I'm counting down the hours until I can see him again. 

Saturday dawns finally and I just have the gift shop shift to get through before I get to see him. It's close to five and we've been texting back and forth all day. I'm trying to play it cool though, and I'm pretty sure he is too, as we both leave at least twenty minutes between replying to messages. I don't want to appear over-keen, although something inside me actually tells me that it won't put him off.

He's interested in me. Not just physically, but mentally. Emotionally. And the lack of this from other guys is what has put me off relationships in the past. 

The bell at the door signals a customer and I look up from my phone to see the man himself standing there, much to my surprise.

Oh god, sometimes I think he can't possibly be as attractive as I remember, then I see him in the flesh again and realise he is. He should always smile, I think, watching him wordlessly as he walks towards the counter, that grin lighting up his face and making him even better looking somehow.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, knowing my smile must be as wide as his. 

He shrugs, sheepishly. "I couldn't wait another half hour to see you," he says simply. "I thought we could walk over to the pub together."

"I'd like that," is all I can reply as he leans over the counter and plants a slow kiss on my mouth. His lips are soft, and he smells of mint and that cologne again, and my brain short-circuits.

When he pulls back he hands me a cup. My favourite hot chocolate from my favourite coffee shop, which I had mentioned at some point during our text conversation. "For you," he says, his voice low, his eyes full of meaning. It's like he's trying to say to me I listen. I pay attention. I care.

I already know he does though. He's pretty much made it clear ever since we met again. 

I lock up and we wander hand-in-hand to the pub. I feel more like I'm going on another date with him, rather than walking to my next job. I like that feeling a lot.

Of course, it all feels like it's going too well at this point doesn't it? Girl meets former crush, discovers former crush actually had a crush on her first and still does, things seem to be developing well between them . . . It's almost inevitable something will go wrong. It would happen in a romcom for sure . . . And it would definitely happen in my life. 

And it goes well up until approximately 7.30pm when I'm finishing taking a meal order at a busy table and walking back towards the bar.

Because that is when Adam walks through the door, makes a beeline for me, and attempts to stick his tongue down my throat.

I'd forgotten about Adam.

Shit.