Page 24 of Someone Like You

Phil felt a smile bubble up from deep in his chest. This was why he was here: to chase this feeling, the peculiar thrill he felt whenever this guy outwitted him and made that smug face Phil was trying so hard not to grin at now.

He gave Ian a shove. “Shut that pie hole and buy me a drink.”

It was already crowded inside, a muffled chatter saturating the air. Every table was taken, every stool at the counter occupied; many patrons already had one or more empty glasses in front of them. Ian greeted several people on the way to the counter; the barman waved at him, gesturing him to approach.

“Thought ye weren’t goin’ to show, Galloway! Everyone else is at the match.”

“I brought a guest.” Ian hooked a thumb in Phil’s direction, who raised a hand in greeting, receiving a nod in return.

“What can I get you? Pint of Tennent’s?”

Phil was about to intervene, but Ian was way ahead of him: “We’ll take two Cokes.”

“Coke!” The barman threw his head back in a boisterous laugh. “Nice one! Two lagers coming right up!”

“Cal.” Ian placed an elbow on the counter, leaving forward. The guy sitting nearby pulled himself aside, looking alarmed. “I saidCoke. Unless Phil here prefers something else.” Ian turned back with a questioning look that Phil instantly dismissed.

“Coke’s good,” he said, hoping Ian could see how grateful he was for the backup. “Pepsi, perhaps?”

Cal popped them two bottles of Pepsi; they refused the glasses they were offered and took their drinks to a small booth in a corner that was miraculously empty. When they sat down, Phil noticed there was a reason for that: a hand-written note propped to the menu said‘Reserved’.

“Go ahead,” Ian coaxed.

“But it says—”

“It’s reserved for us.”

Phil took his seat with that simple sound reverberating in his ears.

Us.

Why was he feeling so giddy over a random syllable?

Ian sat beside him and set down the Pepsis. It wasn’t a good spot to watch the game, unless they both sat sideways, as the screen they had the best view of was at the opposite side of the room. It was, however, a secluded corner with no immediate neighbours and Ian had conveniently positioned himself between Phil and anyone who might try to squeeze in later.

“Thank you,” Phil whispered.

Ian didn’t bat an eyelid. “What for?”

Phil finally blurted what had been building up on the tip of his tongue for weeks: “Everything.” Ian went unnaturally still, glued to the screen ahead of them, but Phil could tell he had his full attention. “If you hadn’t bumped into me that day—”

“Youbumped intome.”

Phil bit down on yet another grin. “—I doubt I’d haven been able to live up to my good intentions. Running is giving me some juice back… Feels good. And it’s all thanks to you.”

Ian’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His knuckles paled around the bottle in his hand. “Anytime.”

“We should take a pic for Abby,” Phil said. He waited for a sign of protest from Ian, but was surprised to feel him scoot closer. Phil turned his phone into selfie mode. Ian had to reach past Phil’s back to lean on the bench so that they both fit into the frame.

“Cheer up, old man!” he huffed then, in reproval to Phil’s tepid expression.

It wasn’t like Phil didn’twantto smile. He was just afraid that allowing himself to smile would expose how unreasonablycontenthe was to be there, in an unfamiliar place crammed with unfamiliar people, next to a guy whose sole presence made up for any discomfort. He gave it a try, relaxing his muscles so that they reflected how he felt, and watched his features open up on the screen, brightening, emphasising the lines at the corners of his eyes.He couldn’t believe how much he’d aged in just a couple of years. But then Ian smiled, too, and Phil’s perception of himself changed. He saw past the wrinkles and the grey in his beard, the tiredness in his eyes. He saw the man Ian calledHandsomeand for the first time something sank in: there had never been any sarcasm in that moniker.

When he sent the photo to Abby, the arm around him disappeared, slipping away with a brush of fingertips that sent a shiver down his back.

“Say hi to her from me,” said Ian.

Phil obliged and started typing. “You two really hit it off, huh?”

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