His eyes were glowing.
When we arrived, he ran around the car and opened the door for me. Then he guided me ahead of him, one hand resting gently on the small of my back. Apparently the restaurant had Michelin stars and was world famous. I’ve forgotten the name. The food was mostly just weird, and despite four courses I wasn’t anywhere near full.
“Can we stop here?” I called to the driver when we passed an ice-cream stand on our way home.
I bought a giant soft-serve with whipped cream and fruit topping. Then we sat there at a folding table with gulls at our feet, and Chris watched wide-eyed as I got sticky with fruit and licked my fingers clean.
“I dig your style,” he said.
I didn’t get what there was to like, but naturally I was flattered.
We rounded off the evening at a rooftop bar with a view of the Sound; you could see all the way to Sweden. A ruddy guy played sad songs on the grand piano and Chris stared at me so intently, and for so long, that I almost blushed.
“Tell me your dreams?” he asked.
“Sorry, I was just thinking…”
“No,” he interrupted, and tiny peanut-shaped dimples appeared in his cheeks as he laughed. “I mean, what are your dreams, what do you want to do with your life?”
“Oh.”
I didn’t laugh, not at all. My stomach twisted in a familiar way.
“I hate that question.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t answer it.”
Chris raised his eyebrows.
“It’s true,” I said. “All my friends know exactly what they’re going to do; they’ve, like, planned out their whole lives. Travel, education, job, family. I can’t do that. I just get bored.”
“Me too. It sounds awful. That’s not what I meant at all.”
“I think it sucks having to plan next weekend ahead of time. I want to be surprised.”
Chris’s laughter made his eyes sparkle like diamonds.
“I’m exactly the same way.”
I smiled at him. Despite the age difference, we had quite a bit in common.
“Most people my age live extremely routine lives,” he said as the pianist played that Elton John song from The Lion King. “It started happening when we were around twenty-five. People were suddenly so damn boring. Every day is the same, they do the same things, watch the same TV shows, listen to the same podcasts, eat the same food, go to the same gym, follow the same Instagram accounts, and have the exact same opinions about everything.”
“Ugh, I hope I never end up that way.”
“No risk of that. You and I are different.”
He hummed along with the refrain. Can you feel the love tonight?
“That’s why I quit handball. I was actually really good, got to go to the national-team camps and stuff. But suddenly everything had to be so regimented. Every offensive had to be planned out ahead of time and if you tried to take any initiative on your own you’d get chewed out by the coaches. It wasn’t fun anymore.”
“They killed your creativity.” Chris sighed.
“And the excitement. How exciting can it be when everything has been decided in advance?”
“You sound so wise.”
“For my age?”
He laughed.
“Age is overrated. For most people, it’s the same as empty calories. The years add up, but development stands still.”
An hour later, our driver pulled up in the limo and opened the door for me. I caught a few jealous glances from the corner of my eye.
In the middle of the ?resund Bridge, Chris opened the sunroof and got up. We stood close together, the wind in our hair. It was like we were floating. I was exhausted as we sank back into the white leather again. We gazed at each other and it almost felt like we’d just had sex. Chris laughed with his face so close to mine that our lips couldn’t help but meet. A quick kiss, and he let go of me.
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking like he was guilty of an unpardonable violation. “It just happened. I’m sorry.”
I leaned back, my arms behind my neck, and stretched out my legs.
“Stop apologizing. Kiss me instead.”
But Chris’s shoulders sagged and his gaze seemed to shrink.
“There’s nothing I’d rather do,” he said.
“But?”
I straightened back up, squeezed my knees together, and gathered my hair in one hand.
“I still haven’t gotten over everything that happened with my ex. I swear, this has nothing to do with you. I just need more time.”