“I want to know about you, Katy.”
“Well, I was raised in Chicago by my mother. I never knew my father. I don’t even know his name, so I’ll never find him. When I was eight, my mother died of cancer. After that, I went to live with her best friend, Rose. I have no family that I know of, my grandparents are dead, no siblings, no aunts or uncles. I was shy growing up so I didn’t have a lot of friends. I came out of my shell when I went to college, but didn’t have many lasting relationships from that, either. I’ve worked at the Chicago Crier for five years. I live alone.” In that moment I wondered if I was scaring Jamie away, but he just continued listening and nodding every few seconds, so I went on. “I’m good friends with Beth, a writer at the paper. I’m pretty sure she’s a closeted lesbian. I also have a pretty good relationship with Jerry, the editor you talked to yesterday. Let’s see, what else? Oh, my ex, Stephen, just basically told me he never loved me and that he had been unhappy for a long time. So, that’s my story. Pretty pathetic, huh?”
“He’s an idiot,” he said up to the sky. We were both lying flat on our backs, holding hands.
“Who, Stephen?”
Jamie just nodded.
“I can think of a few stronger words for him. We broke up last night and he was already at breakfast with another woman this morning.”
“You deserve better,” he said and then brought my hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Where is Rose now?”
“She’s dead. She died nine months ago,” I said, flatly. He turned his whole body toward me.
“Kate, I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want to talk about her. It’s too hard.”
“I understand. Let’s change the subject. What shall we talk about?”
“Um, what kind of music do you like?”
“A little bit of everything. Mostly indie rock, folk, that kind of thing.” We lay on our sides, facing each other.
“Same here.”
“So why’d you ask me to kiss you?”
I swallowed and made a loud gulping sound. “I . . . er . . . uh, did you not want to kiss me?”
“Are you kidding? Let me think . . .” He scratched his chin. “I’ve wanted to kiss you pretty much every second I’ve spent with you since we met, but that wasn’t my question.”
My heart was racing. I felt momentarily paralyzed with fear that I might accidentally blurt out that Jamie was the single hottest guy I’d ever been alone with. “I wanted you to kiss me,” I said, shyly.
He touched his index finger to my bottom lip and tugged down on it. “I know, but why?”
“You know why.”
“Was it my amazing karaoke skills?”
“No.”
His face went expressionless. “Was it to get back at your ex?”
“No.”
“Then what was it?”
I smiled giddily and tried unsuccessfully to stop. Finally giving in, I laughed and said, “I like you, okay?” I felt like the biggest dork in the world.
He smiled, kissed me on the nose, and then said, “I like you, too.”
? ? ?
Later that night, Jamie walked me all the way to the door of my room. I opened it and asked in a confidential whisper, “Do you want to come in?”
“Yes . . . but I’m not going to.” He took a step toward me, reached his tattooed arm out, and wrapped his hand around my neck, pulling me toward him, my mouth meeting his. He kissed me softly and slowly and breathlessly. “First, I want to take you on a real date tomorrow. I’ll show you the city. There’s somewhere special I want to take you.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Then we’re set. What are your plans during the day tomorrow?”
“I was going to work on the article, and then unless I get an itinerary . . . I’ll just be hanging around.”
“Okay, I’ll come and get you around four.” He lowered his voice. “If I don’t see you before then.”
After he walked out, I looked down at my sneakers and my stupid college sweatshirt and laughed. I hadn’t thought about fitting in or how I looked when I was with Jamie. He made me feel beautiful and alive. I decided to call Beth. I knew Beth liked to write into the wee hours of the night. She usually got to the office later than me but would proceed to brag to everyone about how many words she wrote the night before.
She picked up on the second ring. “Kate?” She sounded groggy.
“Oh my god, did I wake you?”
“No.” She perked up. “I just busted out three thousand words.”
“Nice.”
“What’s up? Are you bummed about Stephen, the jackass?”
“Actually, I was calling because I wanted to tell you that I met someone here.”
“Man or woman?”
“Seriously, Beth? A man. I’m straight.”
“I was just asking. I mean, I wouldn’t blame you, with your history with men and all.”
“My history? You’ve known one guy that I’ve dated.”
“I was just sayin’, I wouldn’t blame you. That’s all, geez, settle down. Tell me about the dude.”
“Don’t tell Jerry.”