Page 31 of Crying in the Rain
“Won’t that be expensive?”
“No more so than a hotel room. Is there a local firm you’d recommend?”
“Kind of. There’s only one in town. They have an office around the corner.”
“That will do nicely,” Ade said, smiling up at the waiter, who left the bill on the table and retreated while they figured out who was paying what. Or, rather, Ade figured it out, and Kris handed over his card and absently keyed in his PIN when prompted. He was torn between offering Ade a place to stay and worrying that doing so was too forward. Shaunna would be fine with it, he was sure, but he’d hate Ade to feel he had to accept if he didn’t want to.
There were no free cars when they arrived at the taxi office, so they had to wait. Kris watched Ade out of the corner of his eye. He seemed agitated.
“Are you OK?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes. I’m fine. I just…I was figuring out my plans for tomorrow, so I could come and collect my car.” It was a subtle hint that Kris might have missed were they not already on the same wavelength.
“I was thinking about that. You’re at work in the morning, I’m guessing?”
“I am.”
“And we haven’t drunk so much that you’d be incapable of driving back first thing, so…what about staying at my place?”
“Won’t Shaunna mind?”
“Not at all. Like I said, we’re best friends, and she’ll know…” Kris paused, but then decided to go for it. “Tonight has been amazing, Ade, and if you didn’t come home with me, I’d only spend half the night jabbering to her about you and then no doubt lie awake for the rest of it, concocting reasons to call you tomorrow.”
“Oh,” Ade said quietly. “Heavy.”
Kris grimaced. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t planning on telling you that.”
“I’m glad you did.” Ade pondered for a moment. “OK. I’ll come back with you, but I haven’t done this in a long time.”
“This as in…?”
“Dating. I tried once, and it didn’t end well. So if I act like a naïve teenager, that’s why.”
Kris nodded and smiled. “OK. I’ll bear that in mind, but I’m no gigolo either.” A taxi drew up in front of them, and he moved towards it, opening the door and gesturing for Ade to get in. “I should also warn you…Ihatepeople sleeping on the couch, so you can have my bed, and I’ll go in with Shaunna.”
“Or we can share?” Ade suggested.
Kris’s heart leapt, and off it went again, bounce, bounce, bounce. “It’s a possibility,” he said, shakily pulling the door shut behind them.
They didn’t talk on the way back. Ade spent most of the ten-minute journey watching out of the window, and if Kris had had his wits about him, he’d have been a better tour guide, not that there were many features of interest in their hometown. He was in a quandary over whether he should send Shaunna advance notice, and by the time he reached a decision, they were pulling up outside the house. The living room lights were on, confirming she was still up.
“I hope she likes me,” Ade said so quietly Kris suspected he wasn’t supposed to hear it, but he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t. Shaunna’s approval was important to him too.
“She’ll love you, I promise.” He didn’t know where it came from, but all of a sudden he was confident everything would be OK. Surely, something that felt this right had to work out.
They had no chance of making a stealth entry; Casper’s little woofs heralded their approach up the path. Kris paused outside the front door.
“Ready?”
Ade nodded.
Kris pushed down on the handle and opened the door a few inches, until the Labrador’s muzzle, tea towel in mouth, poked out. “Hey, Caspy.” Kris pushed the door fully open, shaking his head at the loony dog’s jiggling, his tail a waggy blur. Ade gasped.
“Oh gosh! He’s so lovely!” He crouched down to Casper’s level. “Hello, handsome.” Casper shoved his nose into Ade’s hand and released the tea towel. “Is this for me? Thank you very much!” He let the dog have a good sniff of him—a dog person, without a doubt—and straightened up, grinning. “I’m officially smitten.”
Grinning back, Kris stepped past, patting the dog on the flank to get him to move. “You can have him,” he said, beckoning Ade inside. At the same time, the living room door opened, and Shaunna stepped into the hall. Both she and Ade stopped dead and stared at each other. After a beat, as if mirroring each other’s actions, they tilted their heads, taking in each other’s hair—Shaunna’s fiery curls cascading messily from a sprung comb clip, Ade’s gelled copper spikes—leaned left, leaned right, nodded approval and, finally, smiled broadly.
“You must be Ade,” Shaunna said, stepping forward.
