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Carmy shook his hands out a couple of times and took a deep breath. “Hey, Syd, we uh, we still have that standing invite for that Mexican place in Pilsen.”
“Oh, yeah, we do. What about it, are you going? I can cover dinner unless it’s next Thursday, I’m off that night.” He followed her to the walk-in where she was scanning the produce, clipboard in hand.
“No, I uh- Do you wanna come with me? Like as a date?”
“A date?” she sputtered, clipboard dropping to her side when her arm felt too heavy to hold up. “Like a romantic date? With me? And you?”
“Uh, yeah, ideally. Look,” he reassured her with a hand on her shoulder. “No pressure, if you're not interested, that’s fine. I just- I thought it could be a good time, y’know? If you and I dating is a little complicated, I have room for complicated.”
“Oh.” Was all she said, but Sydney had the most expressive face he’d ever seen so he could see her weighing out her options. “Okay, yeah, let’s go on a date. Together,” she said resolutely.
“Cool, Tuesday good?” It was their slowest night, the kitchen could handle it.
“Yeah, yeah perfect. Sounds good. I’ll-uh, I’ll meet you there.” She smiled faintly as she rounded him and got back to her checks. He watched her go, smile growing on his own face, quickly smothered with a throat clear and hand over his mouth.
✦ ✦ ✦
He made up his mind to ask Sydney out after a question from his therapist. Therapy wasn’t the instant fix he was hoping it would be, it was hard work. It was also less like someone just telling him he was anxious and depressed and more like a guide to help him realize that the way he grew up wasn’t alright, even though it was his normal, and that those experiences manifested as depression and anxiety and all his other issues. Their sessions tended to focus on his past relationships with his family and how that influenced his work and life, but recently, they’d been talking about his future.
“Where do you want to be in 30 years? What would make you happy?”
He was almost too scared to close his eyes, fearful of a blank, his brain refusing to cooperate with him imagining a future where he was happy. But instead, it was wonderful. His life flashed forward and he saw himself standing in a comfortable, bright kitchen, handing Syd a cup of tea the way she liked before she asked for it, laughing at something she said, because she’s still the funniest person he’d ever met, and basking in the warmth of her smile. He realized in an instant that he wanted to be there beside her every day in every capacity. He wanted to build with her, but he wanted to enjoy the fruits of their labor together too. He wanted to be able to touch her, ask her probing questions, and learn everything about her. He wanted there to be no more “that’s a long story.” He wanted her to be his family. He didn’t think he deserved her, but he really fucking wanted to.
He'd always been paralyzed by the fear of fucking with the amazing relationship that they already had, of losing her from where she was already so comfortably situated in his life, but by waiting, he was always running the risk that she’d find some amazing person and he’d miss his opportunity for something more. And it wasn't like he hadn’t seen her go on any dates in two years, but they hadn’t amounted to much. Whenever Tina and Sweeps reassured her that the right person was out there, he let out a breath of relief. But now he chose to help himself. The chaos was contained, the money was regular, and their friendship was solid enough to withstand a bad date. Not that he thought it would be bad, obviously. Worst case, they might not have the chemistry he thought they did and they could move forward knowing that they had given it a try.
✦ ✦ ✦
This was so not a regular first date that there wasn’t even a weirdly applicable post on Reddit. There also wasn’t the usual silver-lining comfort of knowing that if it didn’t work out, she never had to see him again. Who knew that going on a date with your close friend and business partner would feel so fucking weird? The thought that’d convinced her to say yes when he asked was what she could stand to gain from it working out. And the faith that if it went horribly, they’d be able to step back into where they were now eventually. He was the first person who she wanted to share all of her thoughts, ideas, and emotions with.
The more she thought about it, if she could have it all, why was she only taking half? And like, she could live with half, used to making do. She had been, actually, because her relationship with Carmy thus far had felt… incomplete. Like when they were cooking together at one of their apartments, or watching something dumb on YouTube, or just talking forever at the restaurant past close, it felt like there were more steps she should be taking before they said goodbye. It felt like she didn’t want him to go. She wanted the privilege of having expectations. She wanted more access to him and his time, not just during business hours or about safe topics. She wanted so much of him. And now she had a chance.
Once her mind was made up, she was stuck in the age-old dilemma of deciding what she was going to wear. She debated whether or not she should wear her nice boots. They were a splurge after they were finally able to take a full paycheck from The Bear. Her friend had convinced her they would go with everything and that drove her to fork over the eye-watering sum. They were leather, ‘Which is a quality investment!’ she reminded herself, had a practical low heel, and had some give so they'd always fit. She texted her friend for help deciding.
She dropped the phone to bury her flaming face into a pillow and screamed.
✦ ✦ ✦
As a shock to nobody, Carmy hadn’t been on a lot of dates. He wasn’t even rusty, he was more like ‘near mint, only taken out of the box twice.’ He’d also never had a girlfriend until, maybe Claire? She was a girl who was a friend, but he hadn’t had many friends either. He briefly considers asking Richie or Sweeps for advice but quickly comes to his senses. This was dinner. They had dinner all the time, but this time he was nervous.
The place they were going to was fancy enough that he was wearing a shirt with buttons and some jeans out of the oven. He sent her a text letting her know that it was a little more upscale the day before. It was the first text that wasn’t business related he’d sent since he asked her out, unable to decide whether to keep the course or start something new. The next was sent 20 minutes before he was due to meet her outside the restaurant, letting her know that he was on his way. He arrived a few minutes early, lit a cigarette, and stationed himself at a building that she would pass when she arrived from the station. Sydney shared her location and he followed the little blue dot until it reached the corner across the street from where he was waiting. A text pinged, letting him know she was a minute away. He saw her walk up to the crosswalk and shove her phone into the little bag hanging from her shoulder, jacket already slung over it, all bouncing at her side as she strode across the street, scanning the area looking for him.
He’d always thought she was beautiful in a kinda removed way, like of course Sydney was beautiful, he’d known since the first time he saw her. Her eyes were lovely and they seem to sparkle when she bit down a smile. Standing on the line together, he’d always look into them for confirmation, direction, and reassurance which she was quick to give. Her hands were slender fingered and sure, marked by the same burns and calluses as his and capable of some sort of fucking gastronomical magic. And her figure was long limbed and elegant. It all felt kinda soft and dreamlike and untouchable, especially within the crazy focus of the kitchen. There were clearly times he’d seen her as more tangibly attractive, less idealized and more like someone he coveted, but he’d tried not to think about her like that, knowing that he didn’t have the right. He wasn’t successful but hoped the effort counted for something.
But now she was wearing a short dress and thigh-high boots and fuck, she was fucking hot too. In a way that made him ache to touch the precious inches of exposed thigh above her boots and mouth water for a taste of whatever gloss that’s slicking her lips. He wanted viscerally to trace her shape with his hands, the swell of her breasts and sharp dip of her waist a mind fuck after seeing her almost exclusively in baggy shirts and sweaters. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands but the image of her was burned into his retinas. They were basically the same height which meant the length of her legs must be an anomaly or a fucking miracle because holy shit
She caught sight of Carmy and quickened her pace to join him. “Hey!”
Everything seemed hazier when she smiled at him, the rest of the world fading into soft focus as he zeroed in on her. He stepped close to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. “You look amazing,” is what he said, and he meant it obviously, but his first though was that it would be kinda funny to tell her she looked good enough to eat. Then he remembered that he was not funny and didn’t, thank God.
When she thanked him, he could tell he was turning red. Felt blood rush across his face and even down his neck. He ducked his head, ostensibly for a last puff of his cigarette but really to catch his breath without the glowing image of her in his eyeline. He threw the butt on the ground and stomped it out, overthinking his next move.
He’d been in weird situations with her before and they'd muddled their way through. This was just another one. He only had to get through a first date with her once he reassured himself, still unmoving, seeing her shift on her feet. They stand in front of each other awkwardly before he steeled himself and took her hand to head to the restaurant.
✦ ✦ ✦
She jogged across the crosswalk to join him once she saw him leaning against a wall, already staring at her all intense. He then looked her up and down and it’s not subtle at all, making her realize that the way she’d previously caught him looking at her was probably tamped way the hell down, because this felt like a promise, physically. It felt like he was savoring her. He was also very handsome all cleaned up which was unfair. She was convinced that outside of the kitchen, his appeal would be blunted, or at least less intense outside of the high-stakes surroundings. That it would give her a chance to find her footing without being distracted by his stupid good looks. False. He kissed her cheek and complimented her, and she felt her face heat, thankful that the only color that would show up on her cheeks was the blush she tapped on. He didn’t have the same luck, cheeks ruddy all the way to his ears as soon as she thanked him. Thank God, he was playing this all cool and James Dean with his hair less chaotic than usual, so she was thrilled that she had an effect on him.
As they were walking, she caught the sidelong glances he kept shooting at her. Maybe the outfit was a little much. But no, because she’d had very few opportunities to wear these boots, and it was fucking with her cost-per-wear plan. They molded to her legs like they were made for her and she could walk miles in them as long as the weather was dry (no way was she gonna risk the leather.) They also looked amazing with the slim-fitting minidress her friend had lent her, trusting her judgement. It was a simply cut black matte satin, like a sexy cropped version of Audrey Hepburn’s famous little black dress from Breakfast at Tiffany’s. She was a few inches taller so the dress read a little more…slutty felt like the right word but she meant it fondly. Once she’d tried it on and realized how short it was, she couldn’t chicken out simply because she had no other option for a fancier first date. It all worked out, she looked good and it felt good to dress up without worrying about practicality.
He held the door open for her, hand at the small of her back as he guided her in. They were seated quickly, both because of the reservation but also because the couple who owned the place had invited them. They had a splendid dinner at The Bear, upgraded with extra courses and customized drink pairings. It was all because Richie, ever the networker, had struck up a conversation and realized that they were hot on the Chicago dining scene. Syd loved to treat their fellow back of house to an excellent meal, especially since they got to go out so rarely and Carmy agreed. The couple had been so kind to the staff and promised to take care of the chefs if they ever made their way over to their place, El Cisne.
Their server arrived for their drink and appetizer orders. Syd ordered the beet tostadas and the house margarita with a chuckle, “You know, if you had gotten TikTok when I told you to, we could have had a good laugh about these.”
Carmy opts in for the waiter’s recommendation of an abalone dish, a mezcal Old Fashioned, and is avoiding looking at her. He did scoff at the old argument. “Not gonna happen, Syd.”
“Yeah, right, we’ll see. I’m pretty persuasive.” She leaned closer to him across the table and lowered her voice like she was telling him a secret. “I once got this guy - super accomplished, you might have heard of him - to open a restaurant with me after he knew me for like, a few months,” she said with a smirk.
“Hilarious, Syd.”
“I try,” she said breezily. There was a lull when the drinks arrived.
“I’m surprised you didn’t go for the ceviche, not feeling like fish?” he asked, nervous in the face of her ease, tugging on an earlobe and shooting glances out the window as he tried to make conversation.
She didn’t answer right away because in that moment, when he was looking out the window and his profile was facing her, the sun burnished his skin, melted the blue of his eyes into something warm, and turned his wild curls into a golden halo and he looked like the kind of man cherubs grew into. She was on a date with her handsome friend who she’d been harboring a furtive crush on and she was enjoying spending time with him and it really didn’t feel awkward at all, just new. A wave of affection rolled over her and she reached over to cover his hand, stopping him from fidgeting with the spoon. He looked up at her. “You're so beautiful, Carmy.”
She said it simply with a soft smile, like it was no big deal, but he wondered if it was possible to have a heart attack from the woman of your dreams complimenting you. His brain froze, it was like it hit record to memorize every moment of this. He was slow to react but he did finally flip his hand palm side up to hold hers properly. “O-okay, alright.”
He was blushing and stuttering and hiding his mouth with his free hand. Seriously, had no one ever told him this? “Just take the compliment. If you act all shy and cute, I'm just gonna keep doing it.”
The server came back with far more than their apps, a beautiful assortment of amuse-bouches placed in front of both of them. He was grateful for the reprieve as he was still lost for words, struck dumb by her simple compliment. They dove into the food with gusto and it didn’t disappoint.
The chef came out to greet them a few minutes later. She was grinning in a pristine gray chef’s jacket. “Hey guys! I'm so glad you came out to give us a try.”
“It’s all amazing, chef,” Carmy said with a kind smile.
“Seriously, chef, these dishes are so innovative. Your menu is stunning!”
“Thank you both, but I can’t take all the credit, Miguel’s the one who makes it look good, I'm just focused on the taste.” Chef Mayte was glowing when she spoke of her husband and partner. “He wanted to come say hello, but I beat him to it. He's stuck on expo while I get a few minutes to chat,” she said with a wink. “I’m gonna be annoying and ask you guys where your yuzu is being sourced.”
They talked shop for a few minutes before the chef had to duck back into the kitchen. Thankfully, she’d broken the ice. They learned that the seasonal menu at El Cigne was inspired by family meals each chef had in the summers and they werre quick to share their own with each other. Syd’s were simple dishes her dad threw together using as little heat as possible since their apartment was always hot as hell. He made excellent plantains and egusi. Carmy, however, was met with some skepticism from Sydney and had to defend himself.
“We would have pasta con le sarde all summer. Sugar can vouch for me!”
“Dude, I was born here too! I've grown up with all the classic Italian American foods, where are you pulling out all of these, like, straight out of Palermo sardine dishes?”
“Um, we’re 1st generation Italian American.” He corrected her, managing to look mildly offended. “On both sides. Both my parents were born there.”
“Fuck! Of course- I mean, obviously!” She laughed nervously, “That checks out. Donna and Joe, super…Italian. You guys, uh, have very traditional, like, traditions-”
“We do.”
“And obviously, I’m making assumptions-”
“Hey, Syd?”
“Yeah?” she sighed, looking troubled.
“I’m fucking with you.” He cracked a grin. “Mikey had a fish guy that taught him.”
“You fuck,” she accused feelingly, relieved smile growing on her face. “I knew it! Carmy, that was-”
“I get the appeal now. It feels really good.”
“Right?” She nudged his foot with hers. Now he was thinking about her legs again. “But is it the right move for a first date?”
“I think if the first date was like two years coming, then it’s fine. Otherwise, it’s risky.” He joked, feeling more settled, “Also, if you’ve known your date for a while, it’s okay to admit that when you watch Pasta Grannies to fall asleep, you keep a notebook nearby because you inevitably dream of Italian regional foods.”
“Same, dude. For a while, I was only dreaming of food, but thankfully my theater of the mind is diversifying. My notebook is very confusing right now.”
“Oh yeah? What do you dream about?” That ended up sounding flirtier than he’d planned.
She paused and lowered her fork back to the plate. “U-um, like, normal stuff,” she stuttered. “Teeth falling out?” She said it like a question, avoiding his gaze, and was obviously lying. Now he really wanted to know.
“Yeah? Anything else?”
“Nope,” she said and held out a bite of her tamarind glazed salmon main for him to try. “You?”
He took it with narrowed eyes. “I can tell you're lying. The salmon is great though, the papaya works better than I thought. Here, taste this.” He fed her some of his cochinita pibil and she hummed in pleasure. He’d always loved that sound, making it a mission to elicit it with every new dish he made for her. “Yeah?”
“Holy shit, that’s fire. Better than the one-”
“-we had at the Yucatán food truck. Exactly.” They said in unison.
✦ ✦ ✦
They finally made a dent in the array of food and he paid the bill. She fought him on it, but they agreed to have her cover the tip, generous because Mayte refused to charge them for the extra courses or drink pairings, so they wanted to make it up to the staff.
They decided to walk around, to help digest all the food. They were chatting, same as they always did, but there was a little bit of tension hanging around them now. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just a feeling like they were building up to something. Their hands were swinging at their sides so when they listed closer and closer together, Sydney took a breath, braced for rejection, and grabbed his hand. His fingers immediately slotted between hers and looked over at her with a shy smile. It gave her courage.
“So,” she drawled, “Can I ask, what made you ask me out? I just didn’t really think I was your type.”
“What d’you mean type? I'm not into women who are smart or funny or amazingly talented?” he teased.
“Well-”
“You don’t think I’m into really pretty girls?”
“Okay, laying it on a little thick, Carmy.”
He frowned at her tone, she sounded… serious. He slowed and pulled her to stop with him. “No, I'm not, Sydney. You're so fucking out of my league it’s like you're in a different orbit. How could you doubt that a loser like me would be into you? I'm like, fucking obsessed with you. Have been. The real question is what is a fucking catch like you doing here with someone like me?”
“First of all, fuck you, I have excellent taste. But, yeah, like I know we were fighting right after we opened but we talked and you…showed me things were gonna change and we made up. I was waiting for you to make a move after but you never did so I let it go. I mean, I’ve gone on dates, you never mentioned anything then either. And now, we are excellent friends and business partners, I just don’t get why now I guess.”
His forehead was creased, showing how intently he was paying attention to her rambling. When she stopped talking, he blinked a couple times like he just realized it was his turn to speak, not just to listen. “I just didn’t think I was allowed to have you.” The honest thought spilled from him before he could think of rewording it. “Fuck, that sounds bad. I mean-”
“You don’t have to apologize yet, keep talking, let’s hear where you're going with this.”
“You're like my dream girl, Syd. I would have felt ridiculously shitty showing you all of my broken pieces and asking you, ‘Can you do something with these? I haven’t been able to but maybe you can use them.’ It was an easy excuse for me to, like, force myself away from you romantically.”
“Carmy…”
“You never asked me out either,” he pointed out. “I honestly never let myself think you were interested in me for anything other than friendship. That was already more than I expected after the shit I pulled when we were opening.”
“You know, this is the exact opposite of what usually happens. Usually, I try to become friends with a guy at work and as soon as we’re out of the kitchen, he asks me out thinking I was flirting by being polite. You, I was actively flirting with and it took you like literal years to figure it out. You're kinda bad for my ego.”
“Yeah, I'm sorry. Once I wised up, I just felt like I needed to work on me before I could risk bringing you closer. Like, I wanted to be able to offer you a good version of me, or at least a better one. I want you to know that I'm trying and that I'm not perfect or anything, but I'm willing to work. Now, I'm-I know myself better. I know you better. And I really wanna try to make an us, you know, because I think it could be amazing.”
She was still staring at him with soft eyes, hand grasping his back. “Well, we’re here now.” Sydney said, her voice sure and holding his gaze. “You and I are on a date, we are interested in each other, and-and I wanna keep doing this.”
He sniffed once, looking over his shoulder before meeting her eyes in that way he did that made her feel like she was the only thing he could see. He pulled her closer to grab her other hand and pressed his forehead to hers. “I do too. I want as much as you wanna give me, Syd.”
A kid on a skateboard flew past them on the sidewalk and it broke the spell. They pulled apart without letting go of their hands and kept meandering around the park. An alarm went off on her phone reminding her to take her break at work. She hurried to pull it out of her bag and silence it before mentioning the time and when the last train heading in her direction was leaving. She hadn’t driven consistently since UPS and had no plans to get her own car. Unfortunately, this one line stopped running way earlier than the rest.
“Can I call you an Uber or something?” he asked which was sweet considering he took the train in himself.
“No. Dude, seriously, it’s fine. I take the L all the time, I take it back from the restaurant six times a week later than this and nobody cares.”
“Nobody cares,” he scoffed, knowing that he and most of the crew with cars offered her rides every night. “Let me walk you to your train at least,” he insisted and she accepted, not wanting to go their separate ways.
They about-faced and begun walking the couple of blocks to the station. She grabbed his hand again and smiled to herself when he squeezed it. This was good, this was allowed, this was welcomed.
They were only a block from the station when she felt the top of her left boot loosen and droop to her knee, “Shit, hold up.” She put a hand on his arm to stop him. “I gotta tie this, give me a second.” She turned to see the tie behind her leg, there was really no graceful way for her to do this with the length of her skirt. “Do you mind?” she finally asked, turning her leg to show him.
He’d been staring the entire time. “Oh, uh, what do you need?”
“My boot untied, and I can’t really get a good angle, y’know without flashing-” she cut herself off and squeezed her eyes shut. “I won’t be able to get it tight enough right now,” she forced out, “Would you mind tying it for me?”
“Oh! Y-yeah, sure.”
There was no way for him to do this without getting like, all the way turned on. He knelt behind her and was face to face with her fucking perfect ass and when he looked up, she looked so achingly beautiful he took a moment to memorize the lines of her from this angle and the way the streetlights illuminated her to draw later. There was absolutely no way he could take a picture, right?
She was holding the top of the boot to the height she wanted it at and he reached for the ties. They were shorter than he was used to and had been tucked into the shoe, so he carefully pulled them from where they were pressed against her leg. He was determined to do it quickly and put some space in between them because he swore even the backs of her knees smelled pretty and floral and he was getting lightheaded. He hurriedly tied a knot, but the ends of the laces dragged across the back of her thighs as he finished. Her skin was soft there and the tickle made her knee jerk forward. She’d had the leg extended as she leaned against the brick storefront on her right and this tipped her off balance. On instinct, he grabbed her hips to steady her, pulling her backwards to stand on both her feet again.
Heart pounding, his fingers flexed where they were still gripping her and her hands came to cover his. He could feel her breathing quickly and was sure she could feel his racing pulse. He was overcome and leaned forward to rest his forehead against her lower back, aching for more. He felt her gasp before he heard it and it was like now that he’d started touching her, he didn’t want to stop. So he lifted his head and stood, hands remaining in place.
“You're so fucking hot, Syd,” was whispered into her ear before she was rotated and herded backwards until she was pressed against the brick wall. Her head would have hit it, but his hand was already there. He leaned in slowly enough for her to stop him. She didn’t. A breath later, she was surrounded by him, enveloped in his arms and drowning in him, his scent, his taste, the feel of him no longer a mystery but there for her to learn with questing hands and hungry lips. “How do you smell so good?” he groaned, nose pressed behind her ear. She pulled his mouth back to hers and she was hungry. He was the patient one, letting her devour him, meeting her tongue with his. It was sweeter than any of her other first kisses had been, but it also made her want for him even worse. She skated a hand down his chest to the front of his jeans. When she stroked his cock through the fabric, she leaned back an inch to watch him react, the bitten off moan from his dropped jaw, the wide eyes still focused on her, and the buck of his hips against hers.
Before she could try it again, he caught her wrist and stepped back from her. Her breath caught, ready for the sting of rejection or something worse. “What's wrong? What did I do?”
“Do? You didn’t do anything I haven’t imagined you doing a million times, Syd. We should just cool it for the night, right? Give it a couple of hours?”
“You don’t regret-”
“No! I don’t regret anything, okay? I wanna do it right, okay. I-I’m serious about you Syd, about us. But if we fuck now, before we think about the dating thing, it’ll be a lot harder to get back to where we were.”
He was right, unfortunately. Sleeping on the decision to cross the physical line of their existing relationship was smart. “I mean, you're right. We shouldn’t have sex yet. Let’s give it a fair shot and, even though I already know, we can wait til you're ready,” she teased to ease the lines between his brows.
“Oh, c’mon,” he groaned, recognizing the tone.
“Hey, I was hoping for a date that was gonna put out, but it’s cute that you wanna go slow.” She was really getting into her scumbag character, deepening her voice. “I can wait for you. But not too long, I have needs-”
“You wanna set a dick appointment? Cause I-I’m booked out-” he replied, proud that he’d gotten the slang right. She booed him with a shove at his shoulder and he heckled her back as they climbed the stairs to the platform.
Her train was due to arrive first so he waited with her, standing almost close enough to touch. There was a breeze and it brought jasmine to her nose. “Do you like my perfume? You mentioned something about it earlier,” she noted, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Hm? Oh, yeah. It’s nice. Pretty. Like you.” Carmy tended to revert to short sentences when he was flustered.
“I followed advice out of this old ass magazine. They said to put it behind your ears, in your belly button, at your throat, behind your knees, like all these random ass places.” Oh god, what the fuck? Can’t she just be silent for a minute!? She can’t stop saying things, her mouth is not listening to her brain, stop talking, stop talking, stop talking.
“What?” He’d never heard of it but it was definitely answering some previous questions. “Why?”
She pursed her lips, too late to stop talking now, huh? “It’s so only someone close to you will catch the scent. Or something.”
He was cursing himself for stopping earlier. Though it seemed all mature and reasonable at the time, now all he could think about was exploring her body for all the places she’d marked with fragrance for him to find. He eyed her up hungrily. “That’s uh-that’s a good idea,” was all he could muster, hardly blinking.
She’d just pressed a cool hand to her cheek when the train arrived. “Well, that’s me. I think I'm gonna stop for something sweet on my way home.”
“Now? What’s open?”
“There's this cool pop-up that’s open late by my apartment that does dessert, I’m gonna swing by and check out their seasonal stuff. Should be fun,” she lingered for a few moments, studying his face. Seeing more passengers than she expected shuffling on, she cursed. “Shit, this is the last one and it’s crowded as hell. I-I had a really nice time, Carmy. Good night!” She stepped closer to pull him into a hug that he barely had time to reciprocate before she was jogging through the sliding doors.
She found an empty seat in the middle of a row, there were a lot of people, but thankfully they were spread out. Sydney plopped her stuff in the empty seat next to her and leaned her head back against the window, sighing. She didn’t think she was being subtle hinting that the date could still go on, mentioning the spot by her place. Just because they’d decided not to fuck didn’t mean she wanted to stop spending time with him. It was fine, they'd pretty much agreed on a second date, right? She sighed again, feeling crazy because she already missed him. The doors were finally sliding closed after the last passenger when it whooshed open again. And Carmy was standing there huffing and red like she summoned him from her thoughts. He was scanning the car, looking for her. She could tell exactly when he spotted her, a smile growing on his lips. She beamed back, never faltering as he picked his way over to her, grabbing her stuff and taking the seat.
“I was halfway to my platform when I realized you were inviting me to get dessert.” He paused, “You were, right? Cause I can still leave-”
“I was obviously inviting you, Carmy,” she confirmed, still grinning like a maniac.
“Good, uh, yeah. We can check out that spot and I’ll walk you home after,” he said, settling into the seat.
Carmy is seated beside her and their shoulders were pressed together. The thing was, Sydney had always convinced herself she didn’t really like PDA or physical affection itself. It was easier and a built-in excuse for when she was heading home after a weird Tinder date and they had to take the same line and the guy wanted to hold her hand or something until her stop. But tonight, it’s late on the train, Carmy smelled like cologne and clean sweat (an intoxicating combination that she’d grown addicted to) and she wanted him to hold her. She wanted people to see them to convince herself that this was real and he was hers to hold. So, holding her breath, she leaned further into him and smiled when his arm went around her shoulder, feeling it when he took a deep breath. She circled his waist with tired arms, resting her head on his chest, and sighed contentedly at how fucking awesome it felt to finally be able to do this. “Will you get me some ice cream?”
He pressed a kiss to her temple and she could hear his smile when he replied, “Yeah, Syd, I’ll buy you some ice cream.”