Touch The Sky | ✓

Three

His hand is calloused, tugging me along the street at top speed, his feet slamming loudly on the concrete.

Laughter streams from both of our mouths as we pelt down the street, dodging concerned and annoyed onlookers as we go, as though we're teenage delinquents, running away from some minor crime we just committed.

Once we're both sufficiently out of breath – although I notice he's faring much better than me – we stop and lean against a wall, still howling.

I'm suddenly so grateful that I chose to wear comfy shoes, rather than heels.

Eventually, my laughter subsides, but a grin stays on my face. 'Well... That was fun.'

His facial expression matches mine and he leans his head back against the cool brick, tilting his head to the sky. 'Hmm... Thanks for coming, Cora.'

I just shrug, finding myself unable to tear my eyes away from him. 'Well, thanks for inviting me, Seth. I, um, should probably get going home, though.'

It's not that I'm not enjoying myself, it's just I'm very aware that I don't know him at all. I do my best to look for the best in people, but I think that a late spring evening in a random street in the middle of New York might not be the best time to do that.

Seth looks back to me, meeting my eyes. 'Yes, of course! How are you getting back? Do you live far from here?'

I shake my head, revelling in his eyes for a second before breaking contact and glancing down the street. 'No, I'll get the subway. There's a station not that far from here, so I'll just get on there. It won't take long. How are you getting home?'

'I was going to get the subway, too,' he replies. 'Is it okay if I walk with you to the station? I'm sure you're a strong, independent woman who can walk there herself, but it makes sense as I'm going that way too.'

It's quite hard to stop myself from laughing, so I just let it out, pushing myself off the wall and looking back at him. 'All right. So long as you don't let that image of me being strong and independent change, okay?' I tease.

He just grins and falls in step with me as we wander down the street towards the station. 'I wouldn't dream of it,' he assures me.

'So, Seth, what do you do for a living?' I ask. 'I feel like running away from the restaurant together like that surely gives me a free pass to knowing at least something about you, right?'

My stomach swoops slightly at this – I really don't know him at all. But he seems like good fun and we're in a perfectly public place. While it's not the noisiest of streets, there are still other people around and cars flashing past us.

It's probably the wine talking, but I'm sure it'll be fine.

'Right,' he confirms, stuffing his hands into his pockets, but not elaborating any further, a tension arising in his shoulders.

There's a pregnant pause, as though he's either ashamed of what he does, or doesn't really know what to tell me.

I wait, though, for him to get the words out. It surely can't be that bad, right? Maybe he's between jobs right now or it's quite complicated to explain.

Eventually, with a rather embarrassed smile, he says, 'Um, I play hockey.'

My eyebrows shoot up and I can't help the disbelieving laugh that escapes my mouth. 'Like, professionally?'

'Uh-huh.'

Honestly, the thought that this guy I've just met tonight plays professional ice hockey is a little intimidating but mostly really cool. What strikes me most, though, is the way he reacted to my question and the humble way in which he talks about it. There's no arrogance or look-at-me attitude about him, something that has a rush of respect for him running through me.