Skinny Love

Tom's Diner

It was a nice Saturday morning in September. The sun was out, but I was comfortably wearing a pair of light wash, high waisted skinny jeans and a cropped, white sweater. My hair was up and weaved through the back of my dad's old Astros baseball cap. I sat at my new favorite cafe on the west side of London. It was one of the few places that sold good coffee, as most cafes here only served tea. As a Texan, the only tea I really cared for was Sweat Tea. 

I was deep into my book, about forty pages to go, when I noticed a man sitting in the chair across from me. I tried to not look up, in hopes that he'd leave. It was quite annoying how men thought they could just interrupt anyone they pleased. When he spoke, I kept my nose in my pages. "Whatcha reading?" His english accent was almost unrecognizable with the overbearing american words. He was obviously someone who had spent a lot of time, recently, in the United States. Without looking up, I replied with annoyance coating my words. "The climax of my novel, and you are rudely interrupting." He chuckled and said, "I knew it!" under his breath, finally gaining my attention. 

When I looked up, he was turned and giving a thumbs up to a large black man who stood across the street. "Knew what?" I asked curiously. The man turned back to me and I noticed he was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses. He had curly brown hair and a jaw like that could cut glass. He was incredibly handsome, even with a crooked nose. A cocky smile spread across his face, "That you were American, darling."

I threw up my hands in sarcasm, like he had discovered my biggest secret. "Shit. I've lived here for almost a month! I thought I was finally fitting in with the locals. What gave it away?" I smiled at him as he chuckled. 

"No self respecting English woman wears a baseball cap, especially if its for the Astros." He leaned forward on the table, arms crossed. I sat back in my chair, closing my book slightly and using my thumb as my bookmark. "Oh, so the strange English boy wants to challenge me on America's sport. What team are you a bandwagoner for?" He began to speak and I held up a finger to stop him. "Wait let me guess. The Yankees." He sighed in defeat and looked down at his arms. 

He looked up and replied, "Can I tell you a secret?" I nodded back at him, curious as to what he was going to say. He looked around as to make sure no one was listening, making me giggle, and whispered to me, "I know nothing about baseball. I was just giving you shit. I'm Tom by the way." Tom held out a strong hand towards me and I shook it. "Y/n." 

"So really, tell me about your book." I looked down at the novel in my left hand and sighed, knowing I would have to wait to figure out the ending. "It's called 'The Knife of Never Letting Go' by Patrick Ness." He nodded his head. "What do you think of it?"

"Well, to be honest, I wasn't excited to read it. I am kind of over the whole 'young-adult dystopian' thing. But it has actually sucked me right in. I can't wait to figure out how it ends." He smiled a proud smile at my response which I thought was strange. It's not like he wrote it.

"Why'd you read it if you didn't want to?" As he asked, he called over the waitress and ordered a cup of tea and then urged me to go on. "Well I just started working for this publisher, and he actually got this trilogy published. I basically read all the work he gets sent, along with a few other interns, and then pick out the ones I think he'd like. He wanted me to know his past work so I understand what he's looking for."

Tom listened so intently, like he was truly interested in what I did. A complete stranger, hanging on to my every last word. "That sounds like an incredible career. I bet you get to read some amazing stories." 

I blushed slightly at the attention, "Yeah, I mean it's a dream come true. And I get to do it in London? I am living the life." I couldn't help but smile at my accomplishments. I had worked so hard to get where I am and I was so proud. 

The waitress came over and set down Tom's tea. "Here you go Mr. Holland." I looked up at the pretty, young lady that had strangely known Tom. She had a wide smile on her flushed face, and looked incredibly nervous to be talking to him. He thanked her and she quickly fled.

"What was that about?" I questioned him and took a sip of my coffee. He shook his head. "Uh, I come here a lot." 

"Huh, weird I haven't seen you before." Tom shrugged his shoulders and I didn't think much of it after that. It seemed like a good excuse, the waitress probably just had a crush on him. I mean, who wouldn't?  

"Yeah, me too. I definitely would've noticed a pretty face like yours." I blushed at his comment and he smiled largely before speaking again. "So since you just moved here, would you like a tour guide?" 

"Yeah actually I haven't really explored yet. I've been so busy moving and working. This is my first free weekend." His smile got bigger, somehow, and he moved his glasses off his face, setting them on the table. As he finished off his cup of tea, I studied the rest of his face. His eyes were a soft brown and his left eyebrow grew upward in an imperfect way, somehow making him more perfect. 

Tom looked up at me, connecting our eyes for the first time. My stomach fluttered and I felt my cheeks turn a deeper red. I felt almost naked under his gaze, but I also felt incredibly comfortable. It was something I had never experienced before, but I knew I didn't want to stop feeling it. He finally broke eye contact, like he was nervous of the energy, and reached for the phone in his pocket. "Here. Put in your number and I'll call you in few hours and we can go explore and get some dinner."

I took the newest IPhone from his hand, I mean it was literally released last week, with a spiderman case and added my contact. When I handed it back, our hands brushed and I felt electricity shoot through my fingers. "So what is this, like a date?"

This time his cheeks flushed as he replied, "Uh, yes. It's a date." He put enough money on the table to pay for both of our drinks and stood, holding out his hand again. I put mine in it and he raised it to his lips, where he placed a gentle kiss. "It was lovely to meet you Y/n. Enjoy the end of your book." He began to walk away before turning back one last time. "You know they're making a movie?"

"I had no idea." He smiled again and bounded across the street to where his friend was still waiting for him.