Missed Connections

Chapter 18 - Truth. Drink. Repeat.

The rest of the day sails smoothly and before I know it, my shift is over and I'm heading out to meet Louis. We agreed to meet closer to my place, mostly because I know the 'hood, but also because he says his flatmate is taking over their place for the night for a reason that Louis won't divulge. Damn, that Harry kid doesn't like to share, does he? Well, it makes sense anyway. I can still invite him back to my place, and be within distance of my tampons and contact lens solution. This modern girl is nothing if not practical.

Not wanting to get repetitive I chose another locale for our meet up, The Caledonian. It's a super fun Scottish bar near Dufferin Grove that has a tucked away private patio. Pub-like and cute, great first date material. Plus having a plethora of beer and whisky at our finger tips will certainly help lubricate things. Well, Louis' sexy stare will probably take care that, but having some libations to liven up the conversation won't hurt either.

It's hard to keep my nerves in check, and it hasn't even been twelve hours since I saw him last. I found it so endearing that we could relax together, and start being honest with each other in the park. I only hope for more of the same tonight. I look down at my hands, and see they are shaking. Fuck. I need a shot of whiskey even before I arrive. Maybe two.

Before I left the café, I had just enough time to primp myself a bit in the staff bathroom. Flashes of memories from our first steamy kissing session were playing on repeat through my brain. I could barely get my eyeliner on straight. And the shaky hands aren't helping. Well, maybe my foresight to wear a cute bra will pay off. I can dazzle him with my wits.

After locking up, I set out to walk the distance between here and the pub. Checking the time on my phone, I glance down to see a text from Louis.

> Feels like ages since I've kissed you.

My heart flip flops in such a spectacular way that it would get a gold medal in gymnastics. Grinning from ear to ear, I pick up the pace. I want to be where he is. Now.

When I finally reach the pub, I find Louis seated in the darkest corner of the back patio. He is sitting with a relaxed posture, his heavily tattooed right arm effortlessly draped across the table, showing off the infinity rope and bird images that decorate his forearm. His face is lit only by the soft yellow light emanating from the filaments of the bare patio bulb strung across the patio's pergola.

Louis' hair is combed back into a casual pompadour look. And he has fucking shaved. His high cheekbones and strong chin take center stage, and his blue eyes seemed to dance, no longer hidden under his mop of hair. He looks like a wet dream. The love child of James Dean and Danny Zuko, lubricated by pomade and Greased Lightning.

The night is cooler, and Louis is wearing a tight fitted pair of black slacks and striped t-shirt. No socks and tan shoes. Fuck me. He catching me sizing him up and does raises his eyebrows just so, and motions for me to do a little twirl of my own.

Foresight 20/20 on my own outfit. I also decided to glam up, putting on my best fitted black pencil skirt and crop top tank. Just a small bit of skin shows between the two. Not wanting to freeze, I topped it off with a light, fitted leather jacket. My hair is collected up in a perfect retro do, complete with back bun, front victory roll, and small rose for an accent. The outfit is completed with kitten heels and cherry red lips. Pin up girl perfection and curves for days.

Louis steps up from the table, placing his hands around my waist to pull me close. The touch of his finger tips on my back feels heavenly and I take a deep breath, drawing in the scent of his aftershave.