“What?” My eyes lift back to Cormack.
“At boarding school.”
“Oh.” My cheeks heat. “Well, the boys’ and girls’ campuses are separate, actually. There were social hours and mixers, of course, but Parker’s four years older than me. Our extracurricular activities rarely meshed.”
“An all-girls school?” He grins wolfishly. “I’m sure you have some interesting stories.”
“Believe me, it wasn’t all naked pillow fights and painting each other’s nails.”
More like two hundred snotty, materialistic bitches who pray at the altar of gossip and sabotage. There’s a reason Lila is the only one I’ve kept in touch with, after high school.
Cormack laughs and it isn’t rusty at all. Like he does it often, freely.
It’s a lovely sound — one that doesn’t make my stomach clench or my breath catch.
I smile and pretend not to notice how empty that makes me feel.
To my surprise, the night passes easily. We drink crisp wine and eat delicious seafood and Cormack’s charm keeps conversation light, putting a smile on my face and a warmth in my belly. There’s no verbal sparring. We don’t spit barbed comments back and forth. Our eyes never clash with so much intensity I think I might shatter.
It’s all very normal. Exactly as a first date should be. As close to perfect as it gets.
I try to be happy about it.
After all, that’s the goal, right? That’s what we’re all supposed to be striving for in this life.
Happiness.
But if this, here in this moment with him, is what happiness feels like… I’m afraid I don’t like it half as much as my misery.
***
We walk along the waterfront after dinner. Rowes Wharf glows in the distance, the trees on the promenade strung with white lights. Not many people are out walking — it’s Sunday night, and chilly for May.
The wine in my system keeps me warm enough. When I came back from the bathroom after our entrees were finished, I found Cormack had refilled my glass to nearly the brim. I took a few small sips to be polite — it was a two hundred dollar bottle — but didn’t come close to finishing it.
Still, I must’ve had more than I meant to, because the after-effects of the alcohol are hitting me. Hard. My gait is unsteady as I maneuver the cobblestones in my four-inch heels — jet-black Manolos with killer silver accents. On a normal day, I can walk a tightrope in these.
“Whoa, there!” Cormack’s hand lands on my arm in a firm grip, steadying me when I bobble. “You all right?”
Actually, no. I’m not. My head is foggy and my toes are numb.
“I’m fine,” I murmur, pressing two fingertips to my temple. “Maybe a bit too much wine.”
Cormack laughs heartily. “We’ll get you home soon enough.”
I nod, distracted by the vibrations coming from my clutch purse. When I pull out my phone, an unknown number flashes across my screen.
“Who is it?” Cormack asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Let it go to voicemail.” He bends to meet my eyes, all smiles. “If it’s important, they’ll call back. The car’s just up ahead, and I have a surprise for you. We should get going or we’ll be late.”
I grin weakly. “It could be my brother calling from overseas. Or Lila calling from jail,” I joke. “You really never know.”
“Lila’s out with Padraic.” His eyes flash with frustration for a brief second, but he covers the slip so quickly, I think I must’ve imagined it.
“That doesn’t mean she hasn’t been arrested.” I try to smile but my lips are feeling numb.