Love in All the Wrong Places

I stepped out into the sunshine, The Postelles in my ears, and a huge smile on my face. I was feeling confident, and couldn’t wait to see what the night was going to bring me. I wondered what band we could be listening to. As much as I loved going to shows, I didn’t really keep up with who was coming to town, as well as I wished. I really wanted to get into the local scene and support some of the local acts. Honestly, besides that, I was hoping to strike gold and find a band that needed a graphic designer. That was my ultimate dream: to design for bands or artists.

I kept making my way to the bar, knowing the general location of the bar based off the address Jake had given me, but didn’t know where it was exactly. I had been up and down that street numerous times, and was positive I knew it like the back of my hand. This bar must either be new, or really well hidden. Regardless, I figured I would know when I found it because I would find Jake standing outside waiting for me. I was getting more anxious the closer I got to the bar because I was excited for the night, and I was also really hoping that the night would go well. What happened the previous day in the bakery was everything I had always imagined, if not better, and I was still in shock that it actually happened. I turned the corner to walk down the street that the bar was on when I saw Jake about 50 yards down the sidewalk from me, casually leaning against the building. He was wearing almost the same thing he was wearing yesterday. He had on dark skinny jeans, old Chuck Taylors, and a purple V-neck shirt. Tonight he decided to also wear some classy horn-rimmed glasses. My smile grew as I got closer to Jake. I noticed that he wasn’t clean shaven, and that he still adorned his scruff from the day before. Icing on the cake. He heard me coming, and looked to his right to see me coming down the sidewalk. He gave me just as big of a grin.

Once I reached him, he gave me a small peck on the check, and offered me his right arm as he proceeded to escort me into the bar. I blushed at both gestures, and took his arm in my left. We got to the door where they asked for our IDs, when the bouncer looked up from his list and saw Jake, he smiled and greeted him before letting us in without checking our IDs. Once we entered, Jake was on the lookout for a good spot to sit in. He found a table and pulled me along to grab his spot. When we got there, I noticed there was a small stand with a reserved sign with his name siting on the table. Who was this guy? He put the sign down, and asked if I wanted anything to drink.

Woah, something I didn’t think about when this date was initiated. Drinking. Though it would seem obvious and expected for most people, I wasn’t most people. I refused to drink. I will admit I drank a little a couple times back in college, not nearly enough to do anything to me, but I hated myself for it afterwards. I had an alcoholic uncle and I saw how he acted from drinking all the time, and vowed to myself I would never become that person. It’s not like he was abusive or anything, he just became aloof, and refused to care about anything else but what was on TV and his Bud Light. I’d also been to enough parties to see how alcohol affects people, and I wanted no part of it. Not to say I judged anyone that drank, it just wasn’t me. I began to panic, and I think Jake sensed it because he then put one of his hands over mine and asked what was wrong. I wasn’t going to give in. I couldn’t. I just needed to man up and tell him that I didn’t drink. Why was that so hard for me? Was I really that desperate to impress him? God I hoped not. I cleared my throat, and quietly stated that I didn’t drink.
It took him a second before it registered in his head what I had just said. I really hoped I didn’t just chase him away. I looked down at the table afraid to make eye contact. He just grabbed my right shoulder with his free hand and gently shook it, forcing me to look him in the eyes. Damn his beautiful eyes. Once he had my attention, and my heart racing, he looked me square in the eyes and told me not to be ashamed. He said it was okay and he would just grab me a water bottle. I silently thanked him through my weak smile, and he kissed the back of my hand he had been holding as he got up and got our drinks. As I waited for his return, I began to wonder who we were watching tonight, how we scored a reserved table right next to the stage, and how the hell I ran into such an amazing person. I never got my answer because he returned right then, two water bottles in hand. I thanked him, and he patted my hand as he sat down. I was about to ask who we were seeing tonight when he begin to talk. Laughing at the fact that we both tried to talk, we both said “You go ahead,” which caused us both to laugh more. Despite my nerves, he had this calming sense about him. I couldn’t describe it exactly. I had forgotten what I was going to say, when he decided he was going to tell me what he had just been trying to say.

“So, I’m sure you’re probably wondering about who we’re seeing, and how I seem to have a run of the place. I mean, these seats are pretty awesome right?" He chuckled at his lame attempt at a joke before shaking it off and continuing. "I’ll answer both. First, we’re here to see Jukebox the Ghost. They’ve been around for a few years, and are personally one of my favorites. I honestly don’t remember how I stumbled into their music, but I did, and have loved it ever since then. Secondly, how do I seem to have a run of the place? Well, it’s because I do. I own this bar.” He chuckled a bit nervously, almost as if he was the nervous one trying to impress me. I’m not going to lie, it did. He didn’t seem much older than me, and he was already running a successful business, granted it was a bar, but the place was packed. I was definitely impressed. Here I thought he said there wouldn’t be many people here tonight. Guess he decided to downplay it so he could impress me?

He ran a hand nervously through his hair, and was beginning to avoid eye contact with me. Why was he suddenly so nervous? Did I make him nervous? This was a new concept for me. His hand moved from his hair, and he began to nervously rub the back of his neck. Okay, he was definitely into me. This was something Dave once told me about. He said it wasn’t set in stone, but if a guy starts to tell you about himself, and he begins to rub the back of his neck nervously and avoid eye contact, chances were it was because he really liked you, and was nervous about impressing you. Taking this as a sign from Dave, it was now my turn to calm his nerves. We still had a few minutes before the show started, and I wanted to show him I was interested and impressed, all without coming on too strong or moving too quickly. I moved without thinking and I gave him a quick peck on the cheek near the corners of his lips. I surprised even myself at my actions. I had never initiated any sort of kiss with a guy before, and a guy has definitely never kissed me. No more than on the head or forehead in a strictly platonic way of course. I quickly sat back against my seat, eyes wide, and now it was my turn to avoid eye contact.

I noticed from the corner of my right eye that he looked up, and looked right at me, surprised that I had just kissed him, as innocent as it was. Now I really wished I hadn’t done that. He probably thought I was desperate or that I moved too fast. I figured I had scared him off for sure, when he surprised me by taking my right hand, placing his lips to the top of my hand, leaving a lingering kiss there, before securing my hand between both of his hands and setting them in his lap. I looked up at him, he already had his attention focused on the stage as the band was preparing to take the stage, and I saw him visibly more relaxed than he was just prior. He looked so content at the moment, not to mention adorable. I felt the heat rising to my checks as I sat there grinning to myself at how well the evening was starting to turn out. Maybe this whole dating thing wasn’t as scary as I thought. I mean, I know I’m new to the whole thing, but I seem to be hitting it off with Jake. I just need to chill out and stop psyching myself out so much.

Just after, Jukebox the Ghost took the stage, and to my surprise, I loved them. I’m pretty sure Jake had single-handedly picked out my new favorite band. They played a short forty-five minute set before exiting the stage. I looked from the stage to Jake, who was looking at me waiting to see what I thought of the band. I shook my head and smiled as I looked back at the stage, completely mesmerized that he was able to figure out my unique music taste based on the fact that I listened to The Postelles. He was waiting for a verbal reply, so I turned back to him and told him how much I loved it. He then smiled, still with my hand between his and led us from the table to go outside.

“Do you mind going for a walk and perhaps grabbing some ice cream?” He asked once we had gotten outside a few yards away from the bar.

“Of course! That would be great.” I turned and smiled at him.

He began to swing our interlocked hands between us as we continued to walk. I chuckled to myself at the adorable gesture. I felt like a child, in the best way possible. As we walked, our arms swinging wildly between us, he was taking in the scenery, walking with a bit of a skip to his step, adorning a simple grin, and humming to himself. He had these almost child-like qualities that let you know he enjoyed life and always got the most out of it. As we walked, I had no idea where we were heading, but I trusted him so much by this point. He had been nothing but respectful and nice to me. I had no reason to doubt his character. Though, as I thought that, Jessie’s words from yesterday began floating through my head. I grew a bit apprehensive, and without realizing it, had slowed my pace down to a stop as I stood in the middle of the sidewalk, my hand still interlocked with Jake’s.

Realizing we had stopped, Jake turned around and asked if I was okay. Concern laced his features as he began to rub soothing circles with his thumb onto my hand. I bit my lip nervously and stared at our inter-locked hands, and back to him. Furrowing my brows together, I wondered how to bring the subject up. After contemplating for a few moments, I finally gathered up enough courage and looked him square in the eye and asked him.

“Jake, there’s something that’s been bothering me, and I want you to be completely honest with me. Do you know Jessie McPherson?”

In that moment, I swear I saw all the color drain from his face, as the perfect night that had been unfolding, began to crumble before my eyes.