When Eric calls me from downstairs to say that he’s here and in an Uber black car, I take a last look at myself in the mirror to make sure I look okay and suddenly a flight of butterflies takes off in my stomach. “Date or not-a-date, it’s all good,” I tell myself in the mirror. “Whatever happens happens; for tonight I’m going to stop worrying and just have fun.” When I step outside my building, Eric is standing outside of the Uber, and I see him break into a great big smile when he sees me, and I can’t help but feel my own smile grow wider.
“Hi,” he says. He hugs me and gives me a light kiss on the cheek, and I catch a rich, heady scent that makes my knees weak. Is that Tom Ford Oud?
“Hi,” I say back, with a huge smile and blush spreading across my face.
“You look amazing,” he says, as the driver comes out to open the doors for us.
“Thanks. You do too.” Even though Eric gives off a casual laidback vibe at The Cauldron, I can see the finance guy in him now with his black slacks and button-down shirt, and dare I notice a rather expensive watch on his wrist?
“So where are we headed?” I ask.
“We have a seven-thirty reservation at Boka. Have you been?”
I have, and I know it’s one of the fancier, and sexier, restaurants in Chicago. The man has good taste, and more importantly—this is definitely a date.
AS SOON AS we’re seated in the main dining room, with its cozy, dark, modern bohemian vibe, I experience a new side of Eric. He’s always been easygoing and comfortable, but I’m seeing a more polished side as he confers with the sommelier on the wine list. At first, I worry that my nerves will get the better of me and I’ll screw up our easy camaraderie. But, after we finish ordering, Eric quickly launches into more detailed questions about Girls Run It and soon the conversation and jokes are flowing, as is the wine, and we could just as easily be sitting at The Cauldron.
As we’re eating dessert, Eric convinces me to try his apple tart, and, right as I’m taking a bite, a woman approaches our table and puts her hand on Eric’s shoulder. I look up and it’s The Brunette. I almost choke on the tart. “Hey, Eric,” she says. “I thought that was you.”
“Oh, hey, Adeline.” He stands and gives her a quick hug. She smiles at me and Eric says, “Allison, this is Adeline. She’s a runner too.”
She puts out her hand. “Call me Addie,” she says.
“Hi, Addie. Allie.”
“Oh, yeah, Allie, Addie. You two should become friends.” Eric jokes looking between us.
I’m not so sure. Just then another guy comes up and puts an arm around Adeline/Addie’s shoulder. “Oh, hey, hon,” she says. “Mark, this is Eric. The guy I was telling you about who does CrossFit. And this is his girlfriend, Allison.”
“Uh, friend,” I correct her, feeling a blush come onto my cheeks. “Nice to meet you, Mark.”
So, wait, Mark and Addie are together? Not Eric and Addie?
“Oh, sorry. I always put my foot in it,” she says, and I can tell she’s embarrassed as her cheeks now match mine and she looks at me apologetically. “I think that’s our cue to go. It was nice seeing you, Eric, and nice to meet you, Allie.” She nods at me and hustles Mark out the door.
When they leave, I say to Eric, “They seemed nice. So who were they?”
“Oh. Adeline is a lawyer. She used to live in the Gold Coast too, but then moved to San Francisco where she met Mark. She liked Mark, but not San Francisco. So she moved back and brought him with her. You two would probably get along.”
I start laughing from relief and Eric looks at me strangely.
“Sorry.” I decide to come clean. “I saw her at the coffeehouse and at the 5K, and I assumed she was your girlfriend.”
“Oh!” He laughs. “No, she’s not. But, uh, truth be told, we did go out on a couple dates a long time ago. It was back when I worked in finance and was looking to get out.” Suddenly, I’m a little less relieved and it must show on my face, because Eric quickly adds, “It wasn’t meant to be, and then she moved to San Francisco. Then recently she came into the coffeehouse and we’ve bumped into each other a couple times in the neighborhood. Mark is looking to get into CrossFit.”
Though I’m not thrilled, obviously we both have a past, and I shouldn’t let it ruin what I think is a date. Eric must feel the same way since he changes the subject. “So are you ready to blow this pop stand?”
I laugh. “Sure.” Eric pays the bill, dismissing my offer to split it, and then we head back to our neighborhood in a cab, which he also pays for. In the cab, he grabs my hand and says, “The night is still young. Should we go somewhere else? Maybe walk around the neighborhood?”
“I’d love that.”
The cab drops us off at my place, but we walk down to State Street and wander over to the famous Viagra Triangle and back to Nico Osteria. Jonah is working, and he gives Eric the universal nod of, “What’s up, man?” We settle onto one of the sofas in the back of the bar, and while we talk our knees keep touching, and I finally let mine rest against his and he lets his hand rest on my knee.
“So, I can’t believe you thought I was dating Adeline?” he says, laughing a little.
Ugh. What a mood killer. I shrug and say, “I think it was a fair assumption. I mean, you’re single.” But don’t tell me if you’re dating other women, please, because I’m having such a wonderful time, I mentally plead.
“So how about you? Are you dating anyone?” he asks, with the tiniest hint of a raised eyebrow.
I roll my eyes in response to indicate no. “Please.”
He squeezes my knee. “I have to be honest and say I thought you were. You had told me you weren’t ready, but it’s been a while now and the last few weekends you haven’t been texting as much. So I assumed you were busy busy.” He lowers his voice on that last part and raises his eyebrows in a question.
I shake my head, but don’t tell him I wasn’t texting because I thought he was dating. Eric is being enough of a girl for both of us right now. And I like it.
“So are you ready to date?” he asks.
“Isn’t that what we’re doing now?” I tease him. My earlier shyness has disappeared.
“I hoped, but I wasn’t sure.” He smiles at me. “So if we’re on a date, then I’m pretty sure this is okay.”
He cups the back of my head and brings me in for a kiss. Eric knows what he’s doing—it’s soft and teasing—and as my insides melt, I want more.
When he pulls away, I catch my breath and then whisper in his ear. “I live nearby, you know.”
He nods in understanding and says, “I’ll get the check.”
Boundaries, schmoundaries.
SUNDAY MORNING, AS Eric and I snuggle naked under the covers in my bed, we hold hands and he raises mine up, opening and closing his fingers against mine in fascination.
“Can you believe we’re here?” I ask.
“I’m not sure yet.” He then pulls me closer to him, squeezing me. “You feel pretty solid, so I don’t think this is a dream.”
“Stop,” I laugh, but I snuggle in further onto his solid chest.