Page 38 of Love at First Sight

I decide to take myself out for supper so I don’t have to cook, and so I can people-watch, read my book and catch up on texts.

It’s a beautiful evening, and I could stay at home trying to organise more things for the second Health and Safety assessment tomorrow, but to be honest everything is done, and I’d simply be repeating myself.

I need a big exhale after the past few weeks I’ve had. It’s been a doozy.

I go to the pizza place on the corner, and plan on asking for a table out the back, where they’ve planted this huge jasmine bush that curls and winds up the fence and smells amazing.

As I’m approaching, a cheeky-chappy blond further up the pavement walks in my direction, grinning his lopsided cheeky grin, and we hold eye contact like that, smiling, walking towards each other until we meet.

‘Hello, you,’ I say.

‘Hello, trouble,’ replies Leo.

He’s by himself and does that Leo thing where he holds my eye, grinning and refusing to be embarrassed by anything in a way that suddenly makes me embarrassed by even breathing. I don’t mean to roll my eyes, but I do, and Leo says: ‘An eye-roll? I didn’t even say anything!’

I screw up my nose playfully. ‘You didn’t have to. You never have to.’

‘Obtuse, but okay …’ he retorts. ‘Are you, like, hangry or something? Or should I be taking your slights personally?’

It makes me laugh. ‘I actually am on my way to dinner. So …’

‘So,’ Leo echoes. ‘I get points for my understanding?’ He puts a hand up to his face and rubs his finger over his bottom lip. I look at his mouth for longer than I should, and then catch myself, horrified.

‘All right, all right,’ I laugh. ‘You win.’

‘Didn’t even know I was in the race,’ he says. ‘So this has all turned out great for me.’ I stick my tongue out at him. ‘Where’s dinner, then? Got a hot date, or …?’

‘Careful,’ I joke. ‘I might start thinking you’re jealous.’

It’s a silly joke, but Leo doesn’t rise to it. ‘I would be,’ he says, plainly. ‘I really am running out of ways to tell you so, Jessie Cameron.’

I bite down on my own lip, unsure of how to respond, and Leo notices, pleased with himself.

‘I was going to grab pizza,’ I say. ‘Have you eaten?’

‘Yes,’ he replies. ‘But I’d still like to come.’

‘You’ll make a cheap date then,’ I say.

We walk into the restaurant and the head waiter lights up when he sees us.

‘Leo! Caro! Come va? ’

‘Luigi!’ Leo says, going in to kiss the man on his left cheek, and then his right. ‘ Tutto a posto, grazie ,’ he says. ‘ Come stai? ’

‘ Bene, grazie, ’ says Luigi. Luigi holds out a hand to me and introduces himself. He’s served me before, but apparently knowing Leo takes me up a notch in the world. ‘ è questa la tua ragazza? ’ he says to Leo, who shoots me a look laced with guilt, almost.

‘What does that mean?’ I say, looking between them.

Leo mutters, ‘ Ci sto provando con il mio migliore amico ,’ which makes Luigi laugh.

‘ Ho capito ,’ Luigi says, looking at me. ‘Good luck,’ he adds, in English, and I don’t know if it’s in response to Leo or some sort of warning for me. Before I can delve into it, though, my stomach grumbles so loudly that both men hear it.

‘Let’s go,’ Luigi says. ‘For you two, the best table in the house!’

We sit at the exact table I’d been hoping for, and Leo says, ‘Smell that? The jasmine?’

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘I love it.’

‘Same,’ he replies. ‘This is my favourite spot. I’m here, like, three times a week. That’s the thing about a bachelor’s life – can’t be arsed to cook, most nights.’

‘I know a little something about that,’ I say, not even needing to look at the menu. Right as I go to tell Leo I always have the Diavola, Leo says: ‘The Diavola here is superb.’

Our words crash into each other and we both laugh.

‘Can you squeeze in a slice?’ I ask. ‘Even though you’ve eaten?’

‘I could probably squeeze in a whole half a pizza,’ he admits, and I explain we’ll have to order two pizzas then, because I’m starving. ‘Half a pizza won’t do it,’ I tell him, patting my stomach. ‘But this is my treat anyway. I owe you.’

‘You don’t owe me anything,’ Leo says. ‘Honestly. I’m happy to help out.’

‘Well,’ I say. ‘Do you want to help out by talking about anything other than Stray Kids? Because I’ve had enough. I’m all for working hard on something you love, but I am at severe risk of becoming incredibly boring if I don’t remember that there’s life outside of the thing.’

‘You couldn’t become boring if you tried,’ Leo says. ‘Not with tits like yours.’

‘What did you just say?!’ I squeak. ‘Leo!’

He holds up his hands. ‘I’m just kidding,’ he laughs. ‘Sorry. I say stupid stuff when I’m nervous.’

‘You’re nervous to sit here and eat pizza?’ I obviously don’t buy it. ‘Mr Cool as a Cucumber?’

‘Common misconception. Something to do with my face. Even at school I’d get in trouble; the teachers always thought I was up to something. But this is just my face! When I’m trying hard, apparently I look mischievous!’

‘Hmmm,’ I say. ‘I think I might be with your teachers on this one.’

He shakes his head sadly. ‘The injustice of it. I try my best to be vulnerable, to put myself out there …’

The way he says it, I suddenly don’t want to take the mick out of him any more. He seems to be genuinely trying to tell me something, and it feels wrong to tease him about it. I make a choice. I’m going to change tack

‘What else were you like at school?’ I say.

‘Well, I’m dyslexic, but that only came out when I was in Year Eleven, so mostly I was just thought of as thick,’ he says with a shrug.

A waiter deposits two beers we didn’t order on the table, but Leo takes his and lifts it in the direction of Luigi back inside, who I catch grinning and wave at in return.

‘Popular?’ I say.

He shrugs. ‘People knew me, yeah. Probably played it all up a bit too much to be honest – Jack the Lad, that sort of thing. Class clown. I’ll bet if we were at school together you wouldn’t have looked twice at me.’

‘I didn’t look twice at any boy until I was about twenty,’ I say. ‘Literally didn’t even know you lot existed.’

‘Seriously?’ Leo says.

‘Seriously. I had my first kiss just before my twenty-first birthday.’

‘And …’ he starts, not quite finding the words to finish his question. It doesn’t matter though, because I know what the question is.

‘My virginity?’ I say, and he gives a sort of sorry for asking but yeah face. ‘Twenty-one. Felt a bit silly for waiting for so long, to be honest. Tried making up for lost time.’

‘Oh! Now we’re getting to the juicy part!’ Leo chuckles, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

‘That’s all you’re getting from me,’ I say, wagging a finger. ‘I’ve said too much!’

‘Never,’ says Leo, eyes twinkling. ‘I want to know everything about you.’

We order, we eat, we … talk. Just chat. About the pizza, about the butcher’s shop, a bit more about how Leo is not, in fact, thick, and if he were at school today he’d have been diagnosed way earlier, god bless.

‘Dessert?’ Luigi asks, as he clears our plates.

‘I couldn’t eat another bite,’ I say, but deferring to Leo add: ‘By all means go ahead.’

Leo shakes his head apologetically. ‘This is my second dinner already, so I’m good. Grazie , Luigi.’

‘I could walk you home?’ Leo offers, once I’ve paid our bill. ‘It’s a gorgeous night.’

‘It is,’ I say. ‘The summer has been glorious so far, hasn’t it?’

‘Truly,’ Leo says. ‘I’m only gutted I’ve not been away. I need a holiday, man! Some sun and sea!’

‘Same,’ I say. ‘Maybe in September, when all the kids are back at school. I could get a week in somewhere, I reckon.’

‘Well, bear your old friend Leo in mind,’ he says. ‘Because that sounds perfect.’

I smile. ‘Separate rooms though, yeah?’ I tease, and Leo rolls his eyes.

‘Absolutely not,’ he replies, and I laugh. ‘God I love how you do that,’ he says, as we navigate our way off Church Street.

‘Laugh?’ I say.

‘Laugh at me ,’ Leo tells me. ‘I’m, like, addicted to being the one who makes you laugh.’

‘Oh.’ I want to say something wittier, funnier, but I’ve got nothing. ‘You …’ I start, stammering over how to say what I want to say.

‘Me …?’ Leo presses.

‘You … are a nice bloke,’ I settle on, pathetically.

‘Offfft.’ Leo grabs his chest, like his heart hurts. ‘Ouch.’

‘I meant it as a compliment!’

‘That might be worse,’ he says.

I sigh. ‘It’s a good thing,’ I tell him. ‘I find it easy to laugh around you. You make it easier.’

Neither of us speaks then, but Leo slips his hand in mine as we walk, and I let him. It feels good, to be part of a two, to look like the very thing I have so often seen and envied. I look up at him, and he gives me a grin.

Outside my flat we stop, and I sound like the lead in a B-list made-for-TV movie.

‘This is me,’ I say, although by dint of us having stood still I think that might be quite obvious.

Leo nods.

‘All right then,’ he says. ‘Well.’

The way he looks at me, how his eyes roam my face like he’s not sure of his favourite part, like he’s memorising my eyes, my cheeks, my mouth …

I find myself holding my breath. Leo. Leo?

I can’t have feelings for Leo. He’s a player.

A lovely player, but the very definition of a Casanova.

I’ve been through so much, and what’s that famous quote about insanity?

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.

I can’t keep falling for these men who specialise in emotional infidelity.

I have to be better. If I went to therapy this is the sort of thing they’d have a field day with.

Anyway. Leo is looking at me, and I like it, and that isn’t a smart thing to like.

‘Thanks again for dinner,’ he says, stroking my hand with his thumb.

I swallow, hard. ‘You’re welcome.’

More staring.

‘I can go slow, you know,’ he tells me. ‘If you need me to.’

He sounds so genuine. Gentle, and concerned. It disarms me.

‘I don’t know what I need,’ I say, the words escaping my mouth before I can assess their honesty. He nods, digesting this.

‘I’m going to say goodnight,’ he tells me. ‘Can I kiss you?’

Our voices are quiet, barely whispers, like talking louder could ruin something. What, exactly, I’m not 100 per cent sure. This whole thing has snuck up on me, my heart allowing things my brain has not yet processed.

‘Yes,’ I say, and as he comes closer, Leo’s soft, pillowy lips are on mine, gently, playfully, just a little peck, but I close my eyes briefly anyway. It is considerate and tender and lovely. Leo. Leo, Leo, Leo . He knows exactly what he’s doing.

After lingering for a second or two, he pulls away and cups my face.

‘Goodnight, Jessie.’

‘Goodnight,’ I say, my voice barely audible over his footsteps back down the street.