Devil's Food Cake [✓]

11 | spring rolls

As promised, Jonny took me to a Chinese restaurant for our date. Our waiter, a lanky guy, with a straggly ginger beard, set us down in a cramp corner beside the window, where we could look at people's legs walking past us in the rain.

We were somewhere in the basement. I'd never been to this restaurant before. In the times I'd been with him and his mates, we'd always gone to Korean or Japanese restaurants. However, Mr Ming's was located in a tucked away corner of Chinatown, next door to a Chinese bakery that sold some delicious custard tarts, which Jonny assured me we'd get for desert.

I was happy to go along with his suggestions, since he was paying for the meal. How could I refuse a freebie?

While Jonny was studying the menu, I took the opportunity to discreetly glance at him over my glass of water.

He was wearing a white button down shirt, a few buttons open at the collar, loose tie and dark jeans with brown lace-ups. Usually, he wore T-shirts and trainers, so it was nice to see him dressed up for the occasion. Although, he looked pretty good in whatever. I liked his casual style because he made it look effortless, and he had great taste in jackets and boots.

I blinked when he snapped his menu shut and directed his attention at me, his grey eyes were bright and lively as though he was pleased that I was there in front of him.

'You know what, Candy?' he said, with a smile.

For some reason, I could feel my face burning up as I pretended to seem engrossed in my menu. It was written in Chinese, so it was a good thing they had pictures next to the dishes or else I would have got a headache from attempting to decipher it.

'What?' I murmured, giving him a quick smile in return.

His grin widened as he leaned forward; his expression relaxed and playful as though he was about to impart a secret. 'I usually just order the buffet from here. I like getting value for my money. They make a good spread.'

'Ok,' I swallowed, attempting to stop jiggling my foot on the ground: it wasn't doing anything for my nerves. 'I'll have a spread too — sorry, I meant I'll have the buffet.'

I took a deep breath and cursed my buffoonery. Why I was so nervous around Jonny now when before I'd been comfortable around him? Was it that he was taking our flirtation to another level? Was I out of my depth because he was slightly older than me?

I'd been on dates before with boys my own age, but I'd never had reason to feel as though my heart was going to collapse inside me. I knew that he really must have liked me to pull a stunt like this, but at the same time, I liked that he'd managed to get one over me.

He was a daring guy, I'd give him that.

Along with the illogical fear, a sense of euphoria was coursing through me at the prospect of going on a date with him. I wasn't sure how my parents would have reacted if I'd told them that I was going out with a coworker.

My dad liked Jonny and they'd bonded over the football and Steve McQueen movies. They were both big fans. Maybe he wouldn't care that his daughter was going out with a university student? while my mother hadn't even met him, but she'd probably say that I was too young for him and wait until I was eighteen.

Still, there was only two years age difference between us. That was nothing!

A regretful look passed across his face and he made a wide sweeping gesture with his hand. 'You know, it's on Chris Robin. Don't get influenced by me...' he grinned, then added, 'at least not yet.'

I laughed a little at his suggestiveness, and cleared my throat. 'I don't know what to get. The only dish that's in English is the spring rolls,' I giggled.

'Well, you could always save me some money by choosing the spring rolls, Pooh bear,' a cheeky smile lingered around his mouth. He rubbed his fingertips against his chin, which had the beginnings of a stubble. I couldn't resist imagining how he would feel against my lips. My mouth was tingling as though I'd just ate some fizzy Cola bottles and I had to drink the glass of water I'd been given by the waiter to clear my thoughts.

'God, you're such a cheapskate, Jonny!' I spluttered in faux outrage and he laughed, flinging his head back, allowing me to catch a glimpse of the back of his teeth, white and pearly.

His laughter was warm, rich and comforting like a hearty soup with a chunk of buttered bread on the side.

All was forgiven when he gave me that laugh, the unrestrained playfulness and easy-going quality which could even make the most miserable person crack a smile.

His confidence was infectious.

He had the extrovert's skill of making people warm to him quickly, a trait that I admired.

'I'm a student. What do you expect?' he said, once he'd recovered.

He motioned for my menu and I gave it to him wondering what he was about to do. Turning the stained, yellowed pages, his brows furrowed in concentration as he attempted to find a dish among the two hundred or so dishes on the laminated menu.

'I thought you were having the buffet...' I said curiously.

'Oh, I still am,' he said, turning the menu around towards me and pointing at a dish which looked like a noodle soap with dumplings. 'Try that one. It's a tasty soup and the dumplings are one of the best I've tasted.'

'Will do, Jon. So, do you go here often?' I rested my palm against my cheek.

He took a sip of his beer. 'Yep. But not too often, otherwise I'd turn into a dumpling...'

He patted his flat stomach. I gave him a sceptical look which made him almost choke on his beer, as he snickered.

I knew that he played football and squash as part of his extracurricular activities, so I'm sure he wouldn't be getting overweight any time soon...