In the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard, he says, “You’re cute drunk.”
I bite my lip to keep from smiling too much, and I’m glad that the lights suddenly cut out when our professor flashes a PowerPoint display on the classroom screen. We don’t speak or even look at each other again during class, and when the lights come back on, I fumble for an unnecessarily long time, packing up my things.
Esben stands. “Well . . . I’ll see you Wednesday, I guess, yeah?”
He turns to go, and I feel my heart begin to pound.
“Esben, wait. Wait.” I am panicked and frazzled and desperate. If I don’t do this now, I will never do it. “Please, wait.”
Fight or flight time.
“Do you . . .” I swallow hard. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee? Or something? Maybe you hate coffee. So we don’t have to do that. We could do anything.”
He’s got this outrageously charming look on his face, but he still isn’t saying anything.
“But if you want to, I love coffee,” I continue. “Like, a lot. Probably too much. We could just go to the student union. It isn’t exactly gourmet there, but . . . um . . .”
He takes my bag from my hand. “There’s a really fun coffeehouse not far from here. Sofas and cushy chairs everywhere. And the coffee is much better than the union’s.”
“Sure. Yes. That sounds nice.” I’m trying to sound casual, as though I may not faint at any moment. But then I again take in how kind he is, how easy he is to talk to. Just because I’m not fueled by gin doesn’t mean that I should forget that. Although I am sort of wishing I had that teddy bear with me to cling to.
“My car is parked right behind the building.”
“Okay.” I seem to be having trouble moving.
Esben reaches out a hand. “I dare you not to like their mocha quad cappuccino.” He gives me a reassuring smile.
So, I set my hand in his and let him pull me from my seat. My hand stays in his as he leads me through the crowded hall to the back exit of the building, and I have to force my legs not to buckle. When he lets go to open the door, my palm feels noticeably empty.
He looks at me. “I should warn you about something.”
“You’re not as nice as you seem, and you’re going to stuff me in the trunk of your car and roll me off a cliff?”
“There aren’t any cliffs around here.” He gives me a playful pat on my arm. “I’m kidding!”
“I hope so, or I’m making a really big mistake.”
“You’re not.” He flashes a perfect smile. “So, here’s the deal. You thought my room was a mess? Prepare yourself for my car.”
I rub my forehead. I’d forgotten that I’d called him a slob. “Oh God. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. You’re right.”
We walk to an older silver sedan, and he opens the passenger door. “See? You don’t have to ride in the trunk!”
I laugh. “You’re quite the gentleman.”
Esben circles his hand in front of his waist, then bows. “I aim to please.”
In the few seconds I have after he shuts my door and before he’s in the driver’s seat, I exhale loudly. I am brave. I am brave. I am brave.
The radio comes on when he starts the engine. “It’s not far, but a little too long for a walk.”
“It’s nice that you have a car.” I glance around the floor. “Even with the many empty cups, crumpled papers, books, and . . . I believe, forty pairs of sunglasses?” I smile to let him know that now I’m the one teasing.
“Ha! Right? I have a sunglasses problem. I keep thinking I’ve lost a pair, so I buy another cheap pair, then find the lost one. It’s an endless cycle.”
“It’s not a problem. You’re a collector.”
“Reframing. I like it. Smart.”
“‘Reframing.’ Nice sunglasses joke.”
“Ha! And I wasn’t even trying. Wait until I set my mind to doing something amusing!”
He pulls onto the main road, and I look out the window, unsure what to say now that we’re officially en route and trapped in this car together. We’re quiet for the drive, and I’m glad for the music that fills the silence. But the truth is our silence is not as strange as it could be. It’s as though Esben is simply giving me space. My anxiety threatens to cripple me, but it’s so weird and wonderful how he creates comfort when there shouldn’t be any that my desire to take risks today remains strong.
I will fight for myself, really fight.
I have barely undone my seat belt before he has my door open. “The place is right here.” He points to a deep-purple awning and a storefront with large glass panels framed in dark wood. He starts to walk, but I call his name, and he turns back.
“Yeah?” He comes to stand in front of me. “Hey? What is it?”
I’m grateful that the sun is blinding me, because I don’t want to look at him when I say this. “I’m very nervous. I thought I should tell you that.”
“I’m a little nervous, too.”
“You are not.”
“Of course I am.”
“What do you have to be nervous about? I’m the one who is screwed up.”
“Allison.” He steps a bit to the side and blocks my face from the sun, so now I can see him clearly. “Are you kidding me? I’m totally nervous.”
I focus on the buttons of his shirt. “Why?”
“Because I like you,” he says. “Because I think there’s something between us, and I’m very afraid that I’m going to do the wrong thing again and send you running. And I don’t want that. If you’re going to go running anywhere, I’d prefer that you come running to me. I understand that we don’t know each other, not really, but . . . I’d just like to have coffee with you.”
“I’m worried that I’m going to do the wrong thing again. And maybe I’m worried that when I buy you a coffee—yes, I’m buying—that I’ll order for you, and maybe you have a dairy allergy, and I’ll send you to the emergency room with some hideous anaphylactic reaction that will kill you. And that would really be the end of everything, and it’s taking all I have to do this, because this is supposed to be when I start things, not end them.” The wind sends a chill through me and blows my hair over my cheek. “Sorry for babbling.”
Esben lifts a hand and tucks my hair behind my ear. “I don’t have a dairy allergy. But I’ll drink whatever you buy me, because you’re totally worth a trip to the ER.” He winks.
“Then let’s go have coffee, and I’ll try not to do anything that might kill you.”
CHAPTER 13
BABY BLUE