Keira ignored her. “I won’t let him come between us, and I won’t let him take our pub. We were there first! I’m not giving it up for him.”
“So we’re still going in there tomorrow night?”
“Yes.” She stood up and slapped a hand on the table. “And I’m going to make sure there isn’t an awkward atmosphere.”
“Where are you going?” Mel asked.
“I’m going to the pub to clear the air. I’ll make sure he knows that you only gave him my number because you were drunk, and I’ll tell him that I wouldn’t have gone on a date with him anyway, even if he had called.”
“I feel as though this is one of those situations where actions will speak louder than words. We’ll go in the pub tomorrow and act as though nothing happened.”
“That’s also a good plan. But I’ll feel better if I go over there now and make sure we’re clear on things.” In the hallway Keira picked up her keys, then marched out of the door. It occurred to her in the lift that maybe she was being a little neurotic, but then she reminded herself that she’d spent all week waiting for Noah to call and that it was rude of him not to.
The three-hundred-metre walk to the pub went by in a blink. Standing before the door, Keira’s confidence vanished. What was she intending to do, have a go at him for not calling? That would be ridiculous. Plus she’d have an audience in the pub.
He might not be working anyway, so she should go home. After taking a few steps away she stopped again. Why the hell couldn’t he just have called? Okay, so he hadn’t said he definitely would, but she’d got that impression.
She took steps towards the door again before shaking her head at her own craziness. Noah had taken her number and hadn’t called. So what? It wasn’t exactly the crime of the century. If he didn’t want to go out with her she couldn’t exactly force him. What shecoulddo was turn around and take herself home before she made a complete idiot of herself.
Finally, a sensible idea.
* * *
The desire to get in touch with Keira niggled at Noah all week. On Monday, he very nearly messaged her to casually ask how bad her hangover was. Come Tuesday he decided he should call and ask her out. He even swapped to the day shift on Friday so he could take her out for dinner. Except the sensible part of his brain reminded him that he was moving away soon and he’d be better off avoiding Keira. Which meant swapping his shift on Friday had been a good move anyway, since she’d usually come in for a drink.
There was no way he could avoid her until he left, though, and avoiding her felt cowardly. He resolved to call her on Thursday after his day shift. He could ask her out but also casually mention that he wasn’t going to be in Bristol for much longer. That way, she knew the score and he wouldn’t feel as though he was stringing her along.
With half an hour left to work, he happened to glance out of the window and catch sight of Keira standing outside. Her features were crinkled with a look of angry determination, which softened as she stopped at the door. He waited for her to come inside but she paused and headed back the way she’d come, then turned back to the pub, before walking away yet again. This time she didn’t stop but hurried up the road.
Automatically, he rushed out of the door and called out to her as he followed her.
Turning slowly around to him, she swallowed hard. “Hi. How are you?”
“Fine.” He pointed at the pub. “Were you going to come in?”
She shook her head. “No. Just walking past. I’m on my way home.”
“Right.” He tilted his head, deciding it best not to mention that she’d come from what he presumed was the direction of her place, then turned and walked back in the same direction.
“How’s everything with you?” she asked. “Having a good week?”
“It’s okay. How about you?”
“Pretty standard. Nothing exciting. Looking forward to Friday as always. Mel and I will be in for a drink tomorrow, so I’ll probably see you then.”
“I’m working in the daytime tomorrow, not the night shift.” He transferred his weight from one foot to the other as his heart rate increased.
“I won’t see you then,” she said curtly. “Enjoy your evening off.”
She’d already turned to leave when he blurted out his next words.
“Do you want to have dinner?”
“What?”
“With me … Dinner … If you want … Because I’m not working …” He pressed a hand against his forehead. In all his deliberations about whether to ask her out, it had never occurred to him that he was incapable of forming the required sentence. He took a deep breath and tried again. “What I meant to say was – I’m not working tomorrow evening and I’d really like to take you out for dinner.”
She chewed on the inside of her lip. “You didn’t call.”