It's Complicated (Awkward Love 1)

It’s mid-afternoon, but I’m exhausted, so I take a long hot shower and then curl up on my bed. I pull the covers up around my neck and close my eyes. I must've fallen asleep because the next thing I know, the vibration of my phone is waking me up. I open my eyes and fumble for it, picking it up to see a message from Nick.

Nick: Just checking in on you.

Me: I just woke up. Dad’s not here. Haven’t seen or heard from him. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.

The phone rings. I see Nick’s name and press answer.

“Easier than texting,” he chuckles. “And I also wanted to do this in person.”

“Do what?” I ask curiously.

“Ask you out. Like on a real date. Dinner. The works. The kids are both fed and watching TV. Shirley is ready to come over and babysit them the moment you say yes.”

I hesitate. I want nothing more than to say yes, but it feels kind of wrong to see him while things are so fragile with Dad.

“It’ll take your mind off things,” he promises me.

“Okay,” I say. I smile because I am looking forward to this.

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six.”Just before six, Nick knocks on my door. I glance at my reflection in the hallway mirror, hoping I’m not overdressed in my short black silk wrap dress and matching heels. I’m not sure why I feel so nervous. It’s not like it’s the first time we’ve been together. It’s our first time out in public, where people can see us and judge us. For me, that’s scary. I yank open the door, and Nick smiles at me, his eyes roaming down over my body. He shakes his head and breathes out.

“Holy shit, you look stunning,” he mumbles.

I smile shyly because he doesn't look half bad himself. He's obviously shaved, and I’m resisting the urge to lunge forward and run my fingers over his smooth, soft skin. His hair is loosely styled in a way that makes it look natural, and those blue eyes look even brighter than usual against his dark blue sweater. He puts his hand out, and I take it, a shiver racing through me when we touch.

“Shall we go?” he says with a grin. I nod, unable to hide my excitement.

He opens the car door for me, and I get in and watch him walk around to the driver’s side. He slides in and smirks at me, the soft scent of his aftershave wafting over to me. I shiver because he smells good.

“So, where are we going?” I ask. He shakes his head, a glint in his eye.

“You’ll find that out soon enough,” he says.

He’s right because five minutes later, we pull up outside the old theater. He stops the car and starts getting out. Confused, I frown at him and glance around. There are no restaurants in walking distance around here.

“What are we doing here?” I ask.

“Just go with it,” he says, his eyes sparkling.

Excitement ripples through me as I begin to piece things together I should’ve worked out weeks ago. His big special project; the article on the redevelopment of the theatre…Nick is the architect on the theatre redevelopment, I’m sure of it.

We walk up the steps in the direction of the entrance as my excitement continues to build. I raise my eyebrows when he pulls out a key and unlocks the door. I’m impressed that he can come and go as he pleases. He nods and motions for me to go inside.

“Why didn't you tell me you were redesigning this?” I grin as we walk through to the lobby.

“I tried. Many times,” he laughs. “But we always ended up getting distracted. Which I’m fine with because I wanted to wait until it was all official before I told you anyway.”

“That’s why you were fine with being distracted?” I tease, hiding my smile.

“That and you give really good head,” he murmurs, kissing me on the mouth. I laugh because I love it when he says romantic things like that.

“This project really means something to you, doesn't it?” I say, my heart aching.

Places like this must hold memories for everyone. First kisses, last kisses, the best moments, the worst moments… We’re surrounded by hundreds of years of good and bad memories that are about to be destroyed to make way for a new generation of memories.

He nods, a sadness clouding his eyes. “I used to come here a lot when I was younger with my grandmother, so yeah, it holds a lot of memories for me. It's kind of scary doing this, because if I don't do it right, if I don't do the original building justice, I kind of feel like I’m letting her down. Does that make any sense?” he asks.

I nod, completely getting it. “The one time I went somewhere with my Mom, it was to see a play in this theatre,” I murmured. “She came back from London to try and ‘be a mother’. It only lasted a week, but she took me here to see a musical rendition of Lady and the Tramp. Every time I walk past this place, I think of her.”