Oh. The ghost in the room.
Nudging him with my shoulder, I tried to pass over the moment and bring back his good humor. ‘I’m definitely going with post-apocalyptic world. Especially if there are men in it that look like Denzel.’
His left dimple popped. ‘I’m going with post-apocalyptic world too.’
‘Because of Mila Kunis, right?’
‘Well, there’s that, but mostly it’s because I’m anti-violence.’
I wrinkled my nose in confusion. ‘I don’t get it. Post-apocalyptic worlds unfortunately tend to go hand in hand with violence.’
‘Aye, but I’m much more likely to be the one that’s killed in a post-apocalyptic world. However, if I have to live in Grease 2, there’s more than a ninety-five percent possibility that I’ll shoot the next fucker that bursts into song.’ He glanced up at me, all deadpan. ‘It’s just the wrong life for a pacifist.’
Giggling, I bobbed my head in agreement. ‘We’re going dystopian, then.’
He nodded and then asked with a small pucker between his brows, ‘So why are you against living in a musical?’
I shook my head, watching the couple on-screen take a shot at a well-known musical. ‘It’s not that I’m against living in a musical per se. I just like the idea of living in a post-apocalyptic world more. I think I’d be badass.’
I wasn’t looking at him, but I could feel his shoulders shaking.
I slanted him an un-amused look. ‘Stop laughing at me. I would be so badass.’
‘Badass how?’
‘I … I … uh … Well, I’m smart. And witty. I’d be, like, your witty, quirky, book-smart sidekick while you went around kicking every body’s ass and giving them judo smackdowns.’
Laughing, Nate relented. ‘Okay, that could work.’ His eyes flicked over me with interest before returning to the screen. ‘You might be a bit of a distraction, though.’
Trying not to show how pleased I was by the compliment, I replied, ‘That could work in your favor.’
‘Aye, if we cover your legs up.’
I nudged him with my knee and he casually put his hand on my leg, curling it into him. ‘I think someone likes my legs.’
He caressed my skin, almost absentmindedly. ‘They’re great legs, babe.’ He reached for the notepad at his side. ‘This is quickly deteriorating.’
‘The movie?’
‘Aye, what else?’ he murmured, scribbling something down on the paper. ‘Any witty comments, O Sidekick?’
Musing, I stared at the screen. ‘There’s a crack about erectile dysfunction in here somewhere.’
He huffed in amusement. ‘And how’s that?’
‘Well, the plot and songs start off well, each one better than the next, until you hit midway through and realize it’s not going anywhere. This proves true toward the final half, where the plot worsens, the songs make your ears bleed, and all the anticipation just –’ I raised a hand and let it flop to make my point.
‘E-rec-tile dysfunc-tion,’ Nate said slowly as he scribbled it down. He glanced back up at me with a smile. ‘Anything else?’
13
After we spent the rest of the evening joking around like old times, I felt much lighter when Nate left for home. Even though we made no plans to meet up again the next evening, I didn’t find myself worried sick over it. Nate seemed fine. I knew I was fine. It was all fine.
Any niggling concerns were shoved forcefully back into my pit of denial.
At work the next day my colleagues commented on my good mood, and not just because I’d been in an uncharacteristically bad mood the day before, but because I was in a gooood mood.
‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she got laid,’ Ronan joked as he stood beside me at the help desk.
Thankfully, the wide-eyed look I got on my face was attributed to the fact that he’d made his crack in front of a student, who was now laughing his ass off.
‘Funny,’ I hissed at Ronan when the student walked away.
‘It was, actually.’ Angus chuckled behind us.
‘You’ – I pointed at him – ‘are a mean boss.’
He laughed harder. ‘Oh, come on, Liv. You’re walking around as though everyone is farting roses and pissing champagne. What’s up?’
I blinked rapidly at his observation, making what I’m sure was a ‘what the fuck?’ face. ‘Farting what and pissing what?’ I looked over at my colleague Jill. ‘Are you listening to this?’
She shrugged, smiling. ‘He has a point. You’ve been telling every student to have a “freakin” awesome day!’ all morning.’
‘So? I’m being polite.’
‘I’m just saying …’ Ronan eyed me carefully. ‘Yesterday you were in a terrible mood and today you’re on some kind of natural high.’