Page 22 of Then Came You

I want to tell her there’s nothing to feel ashamed of, but I don’t want to sound condescending.

“I’m taking you home, Row.” End of discussion.

Chapter 8

“I’m fucked,” I huff, collapsing on the grassed area at Caffyn Park, overlooking Sydney’s famous Harbour views.

We’ve just finished our 20-kilometre run, and my limbs are filled with so much lactic acid they’re more like wet noodles. The heat has made our morning run unbearable, but I’m the only one who looks like I’m about to pass out between my brother and me.

“What did you do?” Alex queries out of concern, knowing out of the two of us, that’s more his line than mine.

Where do I even begin?

I live in Dover Heights, so there’s no shortage of spectacular panoramic views, but still, the image of Row coming apart on my lap tops them all. I’ve never left a date feeling so content.

All the fancy places were shutting by the time she closed, but Row didn’t seem like the type to fuss over all the pomp and circus like Avalon would have. Comparing the two first dates with these women was like chalk and cheese. With Avalon, we went to a hatted restaurant, Catalina, despite being babies, and with Row, we ended up at Big Daddy's Burger Bar.

Watching her bite into her burger may as well have been porn in surround sound, especially when her lips wrapped around the bun, and she opened wide to sink her teeth into the doughy goodness. When some mayonnaise dripped on the corner of her mouth, her tongue had no problem showing me what I was missing. The seduction continued throughout the meal, whether she was licking her fingers, nibbling on a fry, or sucking around the straw of her strawberry float. She nearly ended me when she took the maraschino cherry stem and made a knot with her tongue. I don’t even know if the rumours are true about whether it means she gives a good blow job, but it was hard to concentrate on any other visuals.

“I met someone.” Alex punches me in my bicep in a jovial way. I turn my head toward where he’s grinning wide. I hadn’t told Alex until now because I was still sorting out shit in my head.

“Fuck yes. Finally, mate. Happy for ya.” I don’t react; I just ponder looking up at the perfectly blue sky. “Why aren’t you stoked?”

“She's 22.” I say it so fast like it’ll speed up time and make her a more appropriate age for me.

“Zee introduced you to her?” Alex laughs as if this isn’t a big enough reason to stop seeing her.

“What? No, my son didn’t introduce me to her. I bumped into her at a cafe, and we just hit it off,” I explain, placing my hands behind my head.

“I’m going to need more. Start from the beginning and don’t stop until you’re finished.”

I tell him about the past few weeks, which have been plaguing my mind.

“She doesn’t feel 22.” I immediately regret the words out of my mouth when Alex barks out in hysterics. “What am I going to do?” I whine like a teenage bitch.

“So, she’s 22, she works at a salon. What else can you tell me about her?”

“What else is there to know?” I huff.

“How about what she looks like, if hairdressing is a part-time thing while she studies or saves to travel. Where does she live? You’ve barely given me anything, bro.”

“She’s adorably sexy. She reminds me of a hot gamer chick. She wears a lot of black, but I don’t know if it’s because she’s a little grunge or that’s her uniform, but she likes that screamo music Zee’s into. Her hair is wild and pink. She’s gorgeous in the most ethereal way. She was going to go to uni, but then took on an apprenticeship because her family has some money and health issues, and she lives like way out west. We don’t make sense, but when we’re together we do,” I sigh frustratedly.

Alex scans my face for longer than any guy should be staring.

“There’s more. What aren’t you telling me?” What did I expect? Of course, I was holding back the vulnerable side of me. I sit up and stretch my calf muscles. I sure as shit don’t feel 22 as the burn hits me hard.

“I’m more real with her than I’ve ever been with Avi, with my kids, with our mates. She doesn’t see my money or my status or the fact I’m a divorced dad. She just listens, and in return, she opens up and shares parts of herself that I can sense she’s always hidden. It’s intense. It’s magnetic, and I can’t seem to stay away.”

“But can you see it going somewhere? Can you see her fitting in your life?” It’s the right question to ask and the only one I’ve been stewing over.

“There’s so much more I want to know and explore about her.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he points out, guzzling his water.

I’ve been fixated on whether I could see myself with Row since I met her.

I already know the tarnished story people would paint about us.

---