But he didn’t hold me this time.
Hell, he could barely look at me.
And it killed me.
So, yeah, I’ve had plenty of my own shit to occupy my time and energy without worrying about going on a date with Gavin Lindberg.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice he hadn’t been around.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take extra time getting ready for group the week we were supposed to go to dinner, curling my hair and putting on my makeup with precision and picking out one of my favorite fall outfits — dark, skinny jeans, a conservative silky blouse, and my favorite black high heels. And I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t deflate a little when he never showed that night, or the week after, or the week after that.
Maybe that’s why I find myself slightly annoyed when he waltzes through the door two minutes before group therapy starts, casting me a smile and a wink as if we’re buddies before taking a seat across the circle from me, outstretching his legs and shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. His intense blue eyes watch me curiously, and I just glare back at him, letting my annoyance show until Jackie says we’re getting started.
Then, I turn my attention to her, and I leave it there for the rest of the session.
I don’t look at Gavin again, not even when he makes his sarcastic and ill-placed comments when someone else is speaking. Jackie warns him a couple times, and he finally shuts up — presumably because he’s failing to get my attention like he so desperately seems to want to do.
When the session is over, I promptly grab my belongings and make my way toward the door, not bothering to stop by the table of coffee and donuts that I never touch, or stay back to talk to anyone else in the group.
I make it all the way to the parking lot before the distant sound of my name being called out stops me, and I take a deep breath, turning and finding Gavin slowing from his jog to a walk and eventually to stand just a few feet away from me.
It’s dark in the parking lot, save for the streetlights casting warm circles over a few of the spots. Gavin is standing under one of them, and it leaves his face half-shadowed, but I can still see a tinge of remorse in his ocean eyes.
“Geez, you really bolted out of there tonight,” he says. “Did I miss the fire?”
I cross my arms, shifting my weight to one hip.
Gavin sighs, grabbing the back of his neck and looking around at the otherwise-empty lot before his embarrassed gaze finds mine again. “Alright, I deserve the silent treatment. I’m sorry I bailed on our dinner. I have the tendency of being an asshole from time to time.”
“How unfortunate,” I deadpan, turning on my heel and making my way toward my car. I click the button to unlock it, sending a flash of taillights over the lot before Gavin jogs around to stand in front of me, holding his hands out, palms up.
“Erin, wait.”
“Honestly, Gavin, I’ve been busy handling my own shit, okay? If you didn’t want to go to dinner with me, you could have just said it. You didn’t have to avoid group for almost a month.”
“I do want to go to dinner with you.”
“Clearly.” I roll my eyes, pushing past him and opening my car door, but before I can slide inside, Gavin wraps his hand around the top of the window, serving as a barricade.
“I mean it,” he says, brows furrowed together as his eyes search mine. “I’m sorry. Truly. I… I’ve had some personal things going on.” He swallows, and I let my guard down marginally at the display of vulnerability. “And I do want to go to dinner with you.”
I inhale, but otherwise don’t respond, waiting.
“Let’s go now.”
At that, I laugh. “Now?”
“Right now,” he says again. “If we go now, I can’t bail out.”
“Oh, how charming.”
“I’m serious,” he says when I try to push him out of the way to get in my car. His hand gently holds my forearm — not with enough force to stop me from brushing him off if I really want to, but with enough care to let me know he means what he says. “Let me take you to dinner. Right now. Anywhere you want.”
The way he watches me is like he already knows who I am, and I hate that I love it so much. I hate that feeling like I’m being seen makes me want to say yes to any and everything this shadow of a man proposes.
“I don’t really know of any good places to eat around here,” I finally say. “I spend most of my time on the other side of town, near campus.”