No, Not that Jane Austen (2 page)

"Random." I almost smiled. "What's weird about that? Not everyone does it that way, though."

"So." He took his coffee as a girl sat it on the counter, then he handed the second cup to me. "You're really named after Jane Austen?"

"Takes all I have not to roll my eyes when people ask this." I sipped my coffee and nearly burned my tongue off. "My parents are weird, like marshmallows on sweet potatoes. What can I say? I'm lucky like that."

He laughed and pointed at an empty table. I nodded and sat down.

He sat across from me and reclined into the chair. "Does your boyfriend like your name?"

"Nice try."

"What?"

"Oh, you know. Typical cheesy way to find out if a girl has a boyfriend. Or vice versa." I set my cup on the table and leaned forward. "Let's bypass all of the awkward stuff and just be realistic. No, I don't have a boyfriend. And yes, that's by choice. I don't want a boyfriend any time soon."

He took another sip and squinted his eyes. I turned my head to the left and watched people rush by, then checked my phone. Fifteen minutes until Donovan's flight was supposed to take off. My birthday wouldn't be the same without him, but maybe one of the girls would come with me to get a tattoo.

One of the girls.

If they weren't with one of their guys.

Alistair cleared his throat and tapped his cup. I forgot about him for a second.

"You ever had a boyfriend?" he said.

I mouthed, "Nope."

His eyebrows shot toward the ceiling. "Never? What about a kiss?"

"Had a few of those."

He laughed. "No boyfriend?"

"It's just not something I'm interested in. People fall in love too easily and it's all fuzzy and surfacey, then what happens? They get cheated on or they break up or they lose interest. Does that sound appealing to you?" I picked up my drink. "Way too much drama for me." I shook my head. “Way too much.”

He finished his coffee and tossed the cup into the trashcan beside us, then folded his hands on the table and smiled.

"I know, I know. Jane Austen, the paradox."

"Fascinating."

"It's not that fascinating."

"Not at all."

"I'm not trying to be negative, just honest."

"No." The sunlight beamed through the windows and highlighted his hair. "Honest is good. It's perfect."

I glanced in my lap as my phone screen lit with Donovan's text.
Signing off for now. See you in a few days. Happy birthday girl. Smile for me! Miss you.

I typed back,
Love you. Be safe!

Alistair ended up doing something on his phone too. I watched his fingers move for a few seconds, then noticed two men gawking at me from the table beside us. I looked away. Did other girls actually enjoy being nothing more than someone's eye candy? Sometimes I wished I were completely unattractive just to avoid weird and creepy stares.

I decided to stare back at them and make them feel uncomfortable. They looked away and refused to make eye contact with me. Alistair when looked up, confused. He shot them a look and turned his gaze back to me. First time I noticed his eye color. Same as mine, only less green and more gold. Normally I noticed eye color as soon as I met someone. In fact, I already knew the girls to our left had blue and brown eyes and the creepy men to the right both had brown eyes. Why didn't I notice Alistair's?

"Wait ... what?" he said.

"I didn't say anything, but I should probably go now." I smiled and stood up, only to bump into a woman with a nasty look on her face.

"Watch where you're going." She huffed and blew by me.

I sat back down and raised my eyebrows at Alistair.

"Is it just me,” he said, “or do most people in the world have a natural propensity toward impatience?""

"Definitely not just you."

I nodded toward his phone. "Who were you texting? You looked a little upset."

"My girlfriend."

"Nice try. You don't have a girlfriend."

"How do you know?"

"Wild guess."

"No, really?"

"You aren't the type to sit with another girl if you're taken."

"And what makes you think that?”

"Well, first of all, you offered me a treat as an apology for being there when I turned and tripped you. Wasn't your fault, but you insisted and then insisted on buying me a drink. The cashier was flirting with you majorly, and you were as oblivious as can be. You handed me my drink, tried to pull the chair out for me but I sat down too fast, and didn't look at your phone when it was beeping until I looked at mine. Want me to keep going?"

"I don't understand what this has to do with my relationship status."

"You're a nice guy, Mr. Alistair. Nice guys don't entertain other girls in airports while their girlfriend's wait anxiously at home. These guys with rings on their fingers. The ones next to us, you know. They, on the other hand, may be that type..."

He shrugged. "Fair enough."

"Why are you here?"

"Dropped my best friend off. Now"—I stood—"I really should be going. It's my birthday and I need to figure out what I'm doing today."

"I'll walk you to your car." He stood beside me, heating my arm with his. "Since I'm a nice guy it shouldn't be creepy, right?"

I walked toward the door and he followed. Odd start to my birthday. I felt bad asking him to leave me alone, but wanted to get in my car and drive away without some strange guy trying to give me his number. That is what he'd do after all. I just knew it.

We finally reached my Jetta and I clicked the button on my keychain to unlock the car doors. He glanced at his phone and sighed.

"Thanks for the coffee and everything," I said. "I better—"

"Can't believe this." He looked down at his phone and shook his head.

"I better get going." I opened the door. "Hope everything goes well with your friend there."

"I procrastinated. Changed my flight and decided to stay a few extra days. Came from Nashville, but my flight stopped here to board for London. But I missed it because of a delay from Nashville. I suppose I need to find a hotel. You mind taking me to—wait, it's your birthday. I don't want to intrude." He stepped back and turned to walk away, then looked over his shoulder and waved. "Have a great birthday."

No phone number. No flirting.

Color me shocked.

I sat down and turned on my car, then looked at the box on the passenger's seat. Still couldn't believe Donovan found it. I held it in my lap and opened the top, then slipped a credit card under the velvet and pulled up. The tape didn't have the slightest tear. Donovan didn't see it, then.

I set the box back on the passenger's seat and backed up, then drove away only to find Alistair holding his thumb out along the main road.

I slowed down and pulled over. He motioned for me to keep going, but I parked and stuck my head out the window.

"Come on," I said. "I'm not letting you hitchhike in Philadelphia."

He settled into the passenger's seat and closed the door. "Are you sure?"

I laughed and pulled back on to the highway. "Stop being so nice. "

He exhaled, barely laughing under his breath.

I started to speak, but stopped when I realized he was saying something at the same time.

"You go right on," he said.

"What were you saying?"

"Just that there's a hotel about three minutes up this road." He pointed over the dashboard. "That will be fine. Thank you so much. I feel rubbish messing up your birthday."

"Rubbish. That's cute." Did I actually just say
cute
?

He didn't seem to notice. "Turn right here."

"You know what?" I ignored the turn and drove straight. "You obviously know a thing or two about tattoos. That was my birthday present today from my friend. Pretty much the only thing I wanted besides a different name. Want to come with me? You seem like you could use a distraction from whoever is bothering you with those texts."

"You really want to change your name?"

I nodded as emphatically as possible.

"But it's who you are."

"No." I pat my chest. "Who I am is in here, not out here."

"I don't know. It's your name."

"So I can turn around and take you back to your hotel of choice or you can hang out with me and I'll bring you back tonight." What am I doing? "This is a bit strange, isn't it?"

He inhaled slowly and exhaled even slower. "It is a bit, but comfortable too." He rubbed his face, then dropped his hand back to his lap. "Then again, I'm rather used to hanging out with strangers."

I didn't ask what he meant. Not that I didn't want to, but my mind fell into a hole when he said it was comfortable. Of all words, he said
comfortable
. I only experienced that kind of comfortable with Donovan and Autumn, but there was something about this Alistair, something that made him seem new and familiar all at once. If he lived here we’d become instant friends.

That worried me.

"Like that," he interrupted my thoughts. "I don't have silent moments like that with most people I've only just met. That just happened."

I wanted to respond, if only to prove that I wasn't contemplating it as much as I was.

"I don't mean to scare you, Ms. Austen." He laughed. "Contrary to your assessments of me, I am not looking for love and I live across the ocean. It wouldn't make sense to..."

I stopped at a red light and stared at him.

He stared back. "I don't start things I can't finish.”

We crossed our arms and analyzed the tattoo designs on the wall. Occasionally his voice sent waves through the silence with a, "This one is nice," or a, "This is okay." Then finally his finger landed on a beautiful design. "That's so mint," he said, finger trailing the art. "You should get this one."

"What? Are they mint leaves?"

"Mint leaves?"

"You said, 'That's so mint.'"

"Right..." He squinted. "Is that not something you say?"

"Is what?"

"You know, like that's awesome, or cool, or crackin'."

I nodded. "Cracking?"

"Anyway." He pointed. "That's my favorite one, but this is your body. What do you fancy?"

Did I really want to tell him that I had my eye on that one from the start?

"This your first tattoo?" he said.

"Yeah."

"Eighteen today?"

"Yeah."

He nodded. "Maybe something simple, then?"

He moved toward me as we examined more images on the wall. Not the slightest hint of cologne came with him. Surprising. Most guys had enough scent emanating from their deodorant, plus the extra cologne on top of that, to instantaneously make me sneeze.

His breath landed on my neck as he leaned over me and pointed to another design. I stepped back and ignored the shiver making its way to my fingertips.

"Any ideas?" Phillip, the tattoo artist, said from behind me. "Need some help?"

"I have a few ideas." I really wanted the one Alistair liked—or fancied—but...

"Do you know where you want it?" Phillip said.

I turned to face him. "Thinking my arm. Down the side here. Or maybe my back or shoulder."

"Show me a few you like." Phillip stepped forward as I pointed a few out, then he continued, "Okay, I can see your style pretty clear here. How about we start small with this one"—he gestured to my second favorite design—"and then you can always come back and build from there to the vine down your arm." He paused. "You're not nervous, are you?"

I shook my head. "No, no. I'm ready."

The next hour, or however long it took, dripped by like water from a sink left on the absolute lowest setting. If I experienced pain along with the vibrating sensation on my arm, I didn't notice. My mind was far too distracted by the boy sitting across the room, scrolling through an iPad and laughing at the screen every few minutes. He carried with him a simple charm. Not that typical ladies man charm, but a distant charm that conveyed depth and passion. Mystery. He had mystery. That’s what it was. And I dare say … he intrigued me.

But….

The inevitable
but
.

It wasn't unlike me to make friends fast or to associate with strangers, but becoming distracted by a boy was not on my list of acceptable actions.

Especially one like him. My parents would have a field day and there was absolutely no way I'd allow that. Jane Austen would not marry a British man on the hills of an English countryside. She definitely, definitely would not do that.

Marry?
I asked myself.
How did we jump to marriage already?

I closed my eyes and hummed Tchaikovsky in the quiet of my mind until Philip said, "That your boyfriend?”

Eyes still closed, I said, “No. We just met.”

“Oh, really? You seem pretty close for just meeting.”

I didn’t respond.

A few minutes later, he said, “Feeling okay?”

I nodded and continued humming songs in my mind.

Finally, he wrapped it up and told me to look. I opened my eyes to Alistair smiling down at me. Then quickly closed my eyes again.

Something about....

"I'm famished," Alistair said. "Mind if we stop and get something for lunch?"

Phillip helped me sit up. "What do you think?"