“No, I’ll get it,” I said, taking a deep calming breath. I didn’t want to make a meal of it. My legs felt like jelly as I approached and opened the door. Fuck, here goes nothing, I thought.
Michael looked amazing, dressed in a tux and dress shirt, he was almost unrecognisable, he seemed instantly older. There was an awkward moment where we both started to speak, both shut up and then both started to speak again. I decided to let him have the first say.
“Siobhan, you look stunning, beautiful.” He kissed me on both cheeks on the doorstep.
“Hello, Michael, Thank you, so do you, very handsome. Do you want to come in for a minute, or just hit the road?”
“Well, don’t you think you should leave some contact details with your flatmates? Here’s my address and phone number,” he said, brandishing a piece of paper.
“Legitimately got,” I couldn’t resist the dig. He had the good grace to look sheepish as he stepped in the door. I brought him in to say hello to Claire and Tara, handed over his details, and made as little small talk as I could engineer. It was kind of awkward being in the living room with him and the girls when we had only just said hello and neither of us knew what footing we were on.
He led me over to a red Mercedes convertible with French license plates and held the passenger door open. He shut the top to protect my hair and clothes. The journey into town was fairly stiff. I tried to worm it out of him where we were headed, but all he would give me was that we were parking at his apartment and getting a taxi to our next destination. Work seemed to be a no-go area once again. Thank Christ for the stereo system. He had an eighties mix on his mp3 player and it was really good. I just had to be careful not to sing along; I didn’t want to scare him off. Finally the journey was done; forty-five minutes can seem a hell of a long time when you’re stuck in a car with one other person and neither of you knows what to say.
When we arrived at his apartment, he pulled into the underground car-park. He opened the door to the apartment, then stood back to let me in. I was contemplating teasing him about his perfect manners when he took me firmly in his arms and pushed me against the wall, kissing me hard. Manners, my arse! That fairly took my breath away. I was trembling with desire, wanting more, when he abruptly pulled back.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he apologised in a raspish voice.
“S’ok, it was pretty nice,” was all I could think of.
Lame, I know, but it didn’t seem appropriate to say don’t be sorry, that was shit hot, on a first date. But fuck, it was passionate and very, very hot.