“Why thank you, S. Harris,” he said, bowing his head.
“You’re welcome R. Blythe.”
He chuckled and shifted in his seat. “Ready to go?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said, and we took our dishes to the counter and headed out of the little café.
I really didn’t want to go back to work, even though I was working on Rory’s dress.
“Walk you back to work?” Ryder asked, and I nodded. He lapsed into silence and I wondered if it was something I said or did, or if he was just being thoughtful.
“So, I have a question for you,” he finally said.
“Fire away.”
“How do you feel about art?”
I had no idea what this pertained to. I was going to need some more information before giving him a definite answer.
“Um, I like art. What kind are we talking about? Monet? Sculpture? Graffiti?”
He put his hands in his pockets as he walked. “Well, I was thinking that one of the guys I met at therapy is doing this art show. He uses trash and makes it into sculptures and shit. I’ve seen pictures, and the stuff is really neat. He invited me to his show opening on Friday night. I thought maybe we could go. If you wanted to.” He was back to being nervous.
I smiled and looked down at the sidewalk. “You mean as a date?” It couldn’t be a date. We’d just gotten through discussing all the reasons why we couldn’t date or do anything resembling dating.
“No. Can’t we just go to something without putting a label on it? Drives me crazy that two people of the opposite sex can’t go somewhere together without getting the third degree from everyone,” he said.
“Who’s everyone?”
He threw his arms up in the air in frustration. “People!”
“Jesus, calm down. I just asked you a question.”
He looked over at me. “Sorry. Things like that just piss me off. I can’t help it.”
I sighed. “I know what you mean. Um, sure. I’d love to go.” It sounded interesting and I’d get to see Ryder. Win, win.
“Great. How about if I just meet you there? Seeing as how I have no transportation at the moment. I’m saving up to get a bike, but I can’t really picture you on a motorcycle.”
“Why not?” Sure, I’d never been on one, but it wasn’t because I had anything against them. Motorcycles were sexy.
“The helmet might mess up your hair,” he said, bumping my shoulder with his.
“Hey! I am not a diva,” I said, bumping him back as he laughed at me.
We reached my building and stopped in front of the door. “The show starts at seven, so how about I meet you at 6:30 in front of the building? I’ll text you with the address.”
“Sounds good. Thanks for the tea and cronut. It was nice to get out of the studio. My interns drive me nucking futs.” Especially now since so many of them had quit.
He laughed again. “Oh, I’m sure you whip them right into shape.” He somehow made that sound dirty, and I looked away from him.
“Yeah, well. I should go in.” I pointed to the building. Ugh, I sounded like an idiot. I needed to go now before I said something else stupid. When Ryder was around, I tended to get tongue-tied.
“Okay, then. I guess I’ll see you for dinner tomorrow night?” he asked. Right. I forgot about the whole dinner thing.
“Yup.”
He held the door open for me. “See you then,” he said, and I stumbled my way into the building. He threw off my balance as well as making it hard to say words.