Lindsey Kelk 5-Book ‘I Heart...’ Collection. Lindsey Kelk
really knew his food, and for the most part, I managed to put Alex out of my mind. During the appetizers, we planned our dream holidays – me taking in a cross America road trip in a turquoise Cadillac, Tyler touring Europe in a private plane – and by the time the waiters cleared away our entrées, we’d covered favourite films, TV shows and books. At last I was really starting to think I knew something about Tyler.
‘And I already know you’re into your hipster music, right?’ Tyler smiled, accepting the dessert menu. ‘I bet you love all those skinny boys with greasy girls’ hair and band names that start with “The”.’
I smiled and shook my head, trying not to remember soft, smoky-smelling hair brushing against my lips. ‘What about you?’
‘I like everything, I guess,’ he shrugged. ‘I like all music.’
Biting my lip, I thought back to what Alex had said in the coffee shop. Saying you liked all music meant you didn’t love any. God, he was so arrogant. And why hadn’t he called me?
‘I just have to go to the bathroom,’ I excused myself, rifling through my (beautiful) bag before I’d even made it down the stairs. Shit, three missed calls. All from Alex. I ran my wrists under cold water in the bathroom, then towelled off before I dialled my voicemail, promising myself I’d only listen to his message once.
‘Hey, it’s Alex,’ he began, ‘you still want to meet tomorrow? Give me a call.’ That was it. I looked at my watch, it was only 9.30. I still had time to call for tomorrow, but not while I was out with Tyler, that was too weird.
‘I wondered if you were coming back,’ Tyler said as I took my seat. ‘Something exciting happening in there?’
‘Oh, it was really busy,’ I said, hoping he didn’t know how many toilets there were. ‘Too many women, not enough loos.’
‘Loos,’ he shook his head smiling. He really was incredibly good-looking, I thought, trying to concentrate. The wavy hair, mussed up from a day in the office, his crinkly, smiley eyes, his light tan. But when he took my hands in his, all I could think about was his manicured nails and Alex’s calloused fingertips, and they just didn’t compare.
‘You want to get dessert?’ he asked, leaning across the table and lowering his voice. ‘Or do you want to head back to mine and get something really good?’
‘I, uh, I have to meet my editor at nine,’ I mumbled, trying to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks, the tingle in my belly. ‘I think I really ought to be in my bed tonight.’
‘I have to be up early too,’ he shrugged, waving the waiter over to bring the bill. ‘Unless you just really want me to see your room.’
‘Oh, I sort of meant, maybe not tonight.’ I was so red, I was practically glowing. ‘To be honest, I’ve had a headache all day. I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. If you’re not well …’ he trailed off, looking around the room, tapping his fingers on the table.
‘Do you want to do something later in the week?’ I blurted out. God, what was wrong with me? I was going to end up married to him out of politeness if I wasn’t careful. ‘I could cook dinner, Friday night?’
‘Yeah, sure,’ he nodded, still not looking at me. ‘Sounds great.’
We headed out on to the street in an awkward silence, luckily flagging a cab down right away. I tried to think of something to say, but there was nothing there at all.
‘Great restaurant,’ I tried. Tragic.
‘Yeah, it’s always good.’
‘Great.’
‘Yeah.’
Clearly this wasn’t going to be made easy. I tried placing my hand on his knee and giving him a sweet smile, but he just covered it with his own without looking at me. I stared out of my window, racking my brain for something to say that wouldn’t end in me asking him up for a coffee. Before I’d had time to muster up another pathetic attempt at conversation, we were cornering onto Lexington Avenue and pulling up outside my flat.
‘Friday, then?’ I asked, as he let me out. Pissed off he might be, but Tyler was always the gentleman.
‘Yeah,’ he said, softening slightly for a goodnight kiss. ‘You take care of yourself. No headaches allowed on the weekends.’
I smiled and waved him off, before opening my bag, taking out my phone and calling Alex. It felt slightly shitty waving one man off and then calling another, but I couldn’t help it.
‘Hi, Alex?’ I tried to sound casual when he picked up on the third ring. ‘It’s Angela.’
‘Hey,’ he yawned. Yawning at ten p.m.? Not very rock and roll. ‘Sorry I missed your calls, I’ve been in the studio the whole time since you left. I’m so fucking tired.’
‘The studio?’ I asked. Another fabulous question from the world’s greatest conversationalist.
‘Yeah, I wanted to demo some of those new songs,’ he said. ‘I just completely lost track of time, and, well, what day it was. Where are you?’
‘I’ve just been at dinner with a friend,’ I said, leaning against the wall. The evening was still pleasantly warm, but Alex’s sleepy voice was giving me goosebumps. ‘So, what about tomorrow?’
‘Yeah, I’m not doing anything.’ I could hear music on low in the background. It sounded like Alex singing. ‘I could give you the tour of Williamsburg if you’re free?’ he suggested.
‘Sounds good.’ I smiled to a passing stranger who looked at me oddly. ‘Where should I meet you?’
‘Uh, at the Bedford Avenue station? About eleven?’ he yawned again. He really was too cute.
‘I’ll see you there.’ I yawned a little myself. It was even contagious on the phone. ‘Hope you sleep well.’
‘I will, I’ll be saving my energy for tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Sleep tight.’
I smiled as I hung up, date with Tyler forgotten, date with Alex buzzing around my mind.
It was still so early, I’d beaten Jenny home from work. I grabbed my laptop and lay on the sofa, thinking about what to write. If I stored a blog entry now, I could just email it from Alex’s without interrupting our day tomorrow. I quickly bashed out the details of my date with Tyler and made some vague references to my day out in Brooklyn with Alex, Balthazar or Brooklyn? before logging off and dozing on the sofa. Mary had said her readers would go crazy for a Wall Street type, so after all, I was just giving the people what they wanted.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The thirty-minute journey to Brooklyn felt like an eternity. What if Alex hadn’t rushed to call because it wasn’t as incredible for him as it had been for me? After all, he wasn’t the one who had tripled the number of people he had ever slept with inside the last fortnight. Just before the train stopped, I pulled my compact out of my handbag, quickly swiped at my shiny nose with powder and ran my fingers through my hair. Thank God it was supposed to look messy.
I skipped up the steps of the subway station, pulling Jenny’s sunglasses down off my head and over my eyes, searching for Alex. Despite the oddly high numbers of hipster types littering the streets at a time they really ought to be at work, I spotted him almost immediately. He was leaning against a lamppost, arms folded, bobbing his head gently to whatever was on his iPod. His black hair shone almost blue in the sun, and his daily uniform of jeans and T-shirt clung to him like a second skin. I lifted up my sunglasses and watched him, bleached out by the sun for a moment. The whole scene was almost too perfect to disturb.
‘Hey,’ Alex shaded his eyes with his hands, when I finally burst the bubble and went over. ‘I didn’t see you sneaking up on me.’
‘Well, that’s the