Page 5 of Someone Like You

“Mornin’,” he greeted, awkwardly aware of Sandra’s dumbfounded face. He gave way to Phil and closed the door behind him, clearing his throat as he said: “Two espressos, Sandy, will ye?”

“One decaf, please.”

Sandy blinked, her attention shifting to Phil and then back to Ian. When her eyebrows lifted high above her glasses, Ian knew exactly what she must be thinking and gave her a warning look that deflated her like a disappointed balloon.

“Two espressos,” Sandra echoed, recovering from the shock with admirable aplomb. “ Grappa, tesoro? ”

“Moonshine?” he translated to Phil, who was studying the place and its old bookshelves stacked with dusty volumes, the mismatched Victorian furniture bathed in the golden light of the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.

“No, thanks,” he said after quickly checking his watch. A spark of interest animated his expression, bringing up a softness in his features that was almost endearing.

Ian gave Sandra a nod. “Just for me, thanks. Let’s go sit down,” he then told Phil with a peculiar tingle in his stomach.

Phil went straight to Ian’s usual spot and eased himself down into Ian’s armchair with a muffled groan, leaning back into it with a sigh of relief.

“Want me to phone an ambulance?” Ian quipped, earning a one-eyed side eye.

“It was my first run in forever, excuse me for being out of shape. Didn’t really help being crashed into by a fucking ox . ”

Ian took the other armchair with an amiable chortle. “Next time we can try to crack that nose back into place.”

“Nah, man.” Phil shook his head. The ghost of a smile surfaced on his lips and he touched his nose. “This bad boy landed me my better half, I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.”

The fondness in his tone tickled Ian’s interest. “I’m listening.”

Phil’s smile broadened as he stared ahead of himself. “I was at this country music concert in Nashville with some colleagues. Too much noise, drunk people everywhere… Not my thing, but you gotta go with the flow, right?”

“No,” said Ian and Phil lifted a bewildered look on him. Sandra interrupted them before either of them could say anything, her plump frame taking up half of the nook they were squeezed into.

“Here we go, boys.” She placed the two coffees and two glasses of water on the table, along with a bowl of sugar sachets.

“Thank you, Sandy.”

Phil stared at the water as if not really knowing what to do with it, so Ian picked up a glass and showed him.

“Water first. To clean your mouth.” He took a long sip of cold water, gingerly imitated by Phil, who then grabbed one of the small cups and took a sniff, grimacing at the intense aroma.

“Nothing like your usual watered down mud, eh?” Ian laughed, then grabbed a sugar sachet and threw it at him.

“Thanks.”

“So, country concert.”

“Ah.” Phil poured the entire sachet into his cup and stirred. “There was this jerk harassing a girl at the bar. Bigger than you, if you can believe it.”

Ian grinned over his coffee. “You rescued the damsel in distress?”

“No.” Phil laughed and the subtle winkles at the corners of his eyes became more obvious.

“She had no problem fending for herself. I just got caught in the brawl and took an elbow to my face.” He took a cautious sip and shuddered, but didn’t put the cup down.

“That was four years ago, and the girl who broke my nose is now my fiancée.”

Ian sat back, downing his espresso corretto in a go. The grappa burned from his throat down to his chest. Meet-cute stories made him sick, but he was relieved to hear that this guy with so much hurt in his eyes had something good to go home to.

“Bet she got with you out of pity.”

“That’s what I’ve always thought.” Phil leaned back, legs sprawling out as he sank lower in the seat.

There was a tiredness to his body language that lay deeper than physical exertion, as if gravity had a heavier pull on him, crushing him down.

“Thank you for this, by the way.” He lifted up the cup in Ian’s direction.

“It’s good. Takes some getting used to, but…

” He brought the cup to his lips and gulped down the rest of his coffee, humming in satisfaction.

Ian let out a noncommittal grunt. Normally, he’d have had a clever quip ready on the tip of his tongue, but his wits were failing him.

It didn’t help that Sandra kept making faces at him from behind the counter and mouthing things like ‘He’s cute!

’ or ‘Where did you find him?’ . Thankfully, Phil was facing the other way.

Sandra had elected herself as Ian’s honorary mum after finding out his mother Sheilagh had died when he was a teenager and had been acting accordingly ever since, but after Ian’s latest breakup she’d become apprehensive, constantly reprimanding him for being too cranky and closed off, and while Ian was grateful for her concern, he also kind of missed the luxury of being a stranger who could mope around without being questioned.

He studied Phil while the man was busy checking out a book he’d found on the ground and marked down all those minor details he’d missed: thin lips with a scar right in the middle of the Cupid’s bow; a touch of green in the brown of the irises; pierced earlobes, almost closed off; a pink bracelet peeking out of a cuff of his hoodie.

A deep line ran between his knitted brows while he read random pages, and when he licked his lips and shut the book closed, Ian was almost startled .

“I should probably go,” said Phil, setting the book down. He pushed up to his feet, not without a mild whimper that snatched a half grin from them both. “Shut up, man.”

Ian held his palms up. “Didn’t say a word.

” Then he stood up to shake the hand Phil was offering him.

Their gazes met and they stilled mid-shake in an odd glitch that had no explanation.

Phil’s eyes bore into Ian’s with a glint that hadn’t been there before and a corner of his mouth quirked up.

Ian mirrored his expression. “Until we run into each other again.”

The curve of Phil’s lips turned into a full smirk that transformed his face completely, leaving Ian staring for way longer than necessary.

Handsome indeed.

“I’ll see you around, old man.” Ian let go of Phil’s hand and stood back.

Phil nodded, his smirk still in place. “See ya, kid.” He waved at Sandra and complimented her for the coffee before pulling his hood up and stepping out into the rain.

Without him, the air in the café seemed more breathable.

Sandy’s gaze immediately zeroed in on Ian, but he cut her off before she could utter a single sound.

“Whatever you’re about to say, it’s a no.”

“But he looks so nice!”

“Aye, bet his fiancée agrees.”

“Oh.”

That was enough to shut Sandra up for that day and the next few days.

Ian went out to run at the same time on Sunday, then again at sunrise every day for the whole week, and never crossed paths with Phil and his haunting eyes again.

All good.