Weeks came and went, and I found myself making more and more excuses to spend as much time as possible loitering by the counter in the bookshop. I wanted to spend every waking moment with Carlisle, but I never had him alone. And it was killing me.
"What are you doing tonight?" The question was innocent enough, but my face quickly reddened; locking myself in my apartment with my hand down my pants, thinking about the boy in front of me, wasn't much of an answer.
"Nothing," I told him instead, trying to keep my voice steady.
He either didn't notice or was polite enough not to say anything when it broke. "Do you maybe want to come see a movie with me and Alistair in town then?" He smiled when our eyes met, but my insides liquefied.
I nodded shyly, unable to resist a smile. After agreeing on a time and exchanging phone numbers, I spent the rest of the afternoon giddy with excitement and nerves.
Hours seemed to drag on and on as I waited for the end of the day. I fidgeted at every traffic light as I waited for them to turn green, mentally trying to plan an outfit that would be half decent. All too soon I was standing in front of my closet, begrudgingly navigating the different fabrics. Eventually I tired of it, avoiding looking in a mirror for longer than I took to brush my teeth and check that I wasn't a complete mess, and jumped back into the car.
Just as I had feared, he was too gorgeous for words; tight jeans and plain shirt suddenly had me melted and I felt a little dizzy. The stupid thing was that he was dressed the same as literally every other guy around us – me included – but was a hundred times more adorable. I was a fucking idiot.
He didn't hesitate in greeting me as I cautiously came over to them, and Alistair managed a half-sarcastic smirk, whispering something to Carlisle which earned him a glare and a jab in the ribs. His flatmate's comment had obviously thrown him a little and his face flushed my new favourite shade of pink.
My hopes that I would be able to spend two hours sitting next to the boy of my dreams were quickly shattered as Alistair strategically placed himself in between me and Carlisle, shooting me a grin and ignoring his boyfriend's complaint.
Halfway through, however, Alistair got up to go to the bathroom. And as soon as he had vacated his seat, Carlisle slid into it, next to me again. "He's a fucking asshole sometimes," he whispered to me, leaning over to speak to me to avoid being shushed by the lady in front of us.
"…I think he's just protective over you," I whispered back, trying to smooth any hard feelings between them.
Carlisle laughed though. "Please, he's trying to wind me up."
I wasn't watching the movie anymore, too intensely focused on how close he was to me. If I moved my hand a few inches it would be touching his, and he was definitely close enough for a kiss. To my horror, as soon as Alistair came back, he called me out on it.
"Are you watching the film or my boy, Garrett?" he asked – too loudly for a quiet theatre. Everyone turned to look at me. "It's impolite to stare."
Carlisle's expression mirrored mine as I felt my cheeks heat up. He shook his head at him but said nothing.
I quickly looked back at the screen, mortified, and kept my eyes there for the next hour.
As we headed outside, I excused myself on the basis of needing to go to the bathroom, mostly just wanting to get away from them. I cringed a little when the door reopened immediately behind me, but my heart stopped when I glanced over my shoulder – expecting to see a stranger – and came face to face with Carlisle.
"…Hey, Garrett…I'm really sorry about tonight…" he started slowly, leaning against the door. "Are you okay?"
I swallowed thickly, nodding slowly. "I'm fine," I mumbled, unable to look at him.
"He can be…abrasive…at the best of times. It's not anything personal…"
"It's alright, Carlisle…" I wasn't sure why he was feeling so guilty; nothing that happened had been that bad.
"Can I…Do you want to get coffee sometime? Without Alistair?"
"I'd really like that," I admitted, smiling shyly.
He was quiet for a moment, a little lost almost. "Um…I really am sorry he was so rude to you. He was way out of line and that wasn't fair."
"It's fine. I mean, I would be a little upset if someone was to, ah, act that way around my partner…" I ducked my head, refusing eye contact with him as heat rushed into my face.
"...Me and Alistair aren't together, Garrett…He's just my flatmate." He sighed nervously, folding his arms and not looking at me either. "He's a wind-up merchant. It's what we do to each other, normally…he's only acting like such an asshole to you because he knows how much I like you, and that it winds me up if he's acting like a jerk…"
My mind was reeling and the room warped a little. Carlisle liked me back? I was hyperventilating, but Carlisle was holding his breath. "Carlisle…" No more words wanted to come out, and I didn't know what to say. "…I really like you too…" it was lame and little more than a whisper, but it was all I could offer with my head spinning the way it was.
He smiled nervously, glancing up at me. "…Could coffee be a date, then?" The question was hesitant and quiet, and he was picking at his clothing as he waited for my response.
"…yeah…" I nodded, unable to resist grinning back.
I'd gone to the café early with the hope of being able to scope the place out before Carlisle it got here. It meant I got to choose our table and study the menu for what I was ordering. If someone was going to overcomplicate a coffee date, it was going to be me. I'd been texting Carlisle intermittently since we had seen each other last, and continued that now as I waited for him to arrive. My stomach was tight with nerves; it had taken us a while to actually organise the date – it had been a few weeks since the movie – and I was starting to wonder if Carlisle's was getting cold feet.
"Hey, sorry I'm late. We were super busy," he sighed, sliding into the seat in front of me. "How was your day?"
I refrained from telling him that I had today off, and hadn't gotten out of bed until about an hour ago. "It's been okay. Better now that I can see you." I forced a smile, trying to relax a little. Leaning back in my chair, I took a deep breath, steadying myself.
"Mine too…I mean, with you, not me…" He smiled shyly, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.
The waitress came around then, taking our orders, and we kept up the conversation until our orders came.
"Did you want something to eat…? I can buy you lunch if want?" he asked carefully, wrapping his fingers around his cup as the girl handed it to him. While he thanked her, I was in a blind panic.
I felt the colour drain from my face and suddenly felt nauseous.
His smile faded too, suddenly flooded with confusion over my reaction; to his credit. "Garrett, I'm not going to force you into anything. It's okay," he told me softly, reaching over to lightly touch my hand. "I didn't mean to freak you out; if anything makes you uncomfortable, just say stop, okay?" He suddenly drew his hand back, trying to make me more comfortable, I was sure, but I didn't want him to stop it. "…what's wrong…?"
I groaned and buried my face in my hands. "It's not you, Carlisle…" Something in me surrendered, and I decided I may as well come clean early on in the relationship, if that was where we were headed. "…I don't like eating in front of people…it's stupid, I know…but it makes my stomach hurt…" I kept my eyes on the table top as I spoke, feeling ridiculous; it wasn't a big deal, but I felt like I was turning it into one.
"Don't worry about it, then. No dinner dates. Is drinking okay though? You feel okay about this?" he asked gently.
I nodded. "This is fine." This was perfect, actually.
Walking back toward his work, I froze as I felt his fingers close around mine. He squeezed my hand tightly, glancing up to meet my eyes. "Is this okay?" he asked quietly, smiling when I nodded shyly.
I stepped closer to him so that our arms brushed as we walked, holding my breath and waiting for rejection. "Your hands are warm," I manage to whisper after a while, my face hot the second after it came out and I realised how stupid I sounded.
"So are yours," he whispered back, laughing a little as we came to a stop outside of the bookshop.
Giddy, I tried to keep myself contained. "…I think I like getting coffee with you…" I admitted.
"Tomorrow, then?" he asked hopefully. "If our lunch breaks overlap?"
I nodded, somehow gathering enough courage to hug him goodbye. "What if…did you want to come over instead? It'll be Friday night and everything and I can cook okay…I could make us dinner?" I prayed I wasn't pushing too quickly – mind you, I had been to his flat before and met his flatmate several times…and I wanted to prove I wasn't completely pathetic and that dinner dates were, in fact, on the table.
He quickly agreed to that, and I texted him my address before stepping inside of my office building, feeling a mixture of excited and nervous.