Upside Down(24)

“I’m impressed that this is a serious conversation,” Sunan said from behind the counter. He was holding two white takeout bags. “You lost me at small fluffy puffin balls.”

Jordan turned to Sunan and sighed, then spoke in a voice that sounded a lot like Deadpool’s. “Thank you, Sunan. Thank you for your valued input. Please know your hard work and dedication to the team hasn’t gone unnoticed, and accept this expression of my gratitude.” He slid a tenner across the counter and Sunan laughed and handed him the bags.

“Always a pleasure, Jordan.” Then Sunan looked at me and winked. “And Jordan’s special friend.”

Jordan groaned comically and walked out without another word. We crossed the street back to the park, which was now, thankfully, a lot less busy. I laughed when I said, “I think that might have been the weirdest experience ordering food in a Thai restaurant I’ve ever had. Actually, in any restaurant.”

He sat on a bench seat and I sat beside him. “That.” He nodded to the restaurant, to his work. “That madness is just a day in the life of Jordan O’Neill.”

I chuckled and he handed me one of the takeout bags and a pair of wooden chopsticks. “Thanks. What exactly is this we’re eating?”

“Deep fried heaven.”

I snorted. “Is that a thing?”

“Try it and you can tell me.”

In the bag were thin strips of something that looked like fries but thinner and wispier and a browny-orange colour. There was a light drizzle of some kind of sauce. It looked interesting, to say the least. “Heaven, you say?”

He used the chopsticks deftly and shoved a few strands of whatever it was in his mouth. He hummed and did a little happy wiggle in his seat, then pointed his chopsticks at my takeout bag. “Try it.”

So I did. And, oh my God. It was sweet and salty, rich and acidic, yet soft and crunchy, and… and… and it was freaking heaven.

He grinned at me. “Told you!”

“What the hell is it? It has every taste and every texture, and where has this been all my life?”

Jordan laughed. “Mango fries with some kind of salt and chili seasoning and a dressing I’m too scared to ask what’s in it because what if he says it’s some kind of mayonnaise with a dash of fish sauce and buffalo testicles, I’ll never be able to eat them again and that would be a tragedy.”

I laughed again, something I’d done more today than I had in a long while. “Mango fries?”

“Well, it’s dried and sliced really thin, then Sunan does some gastronomical wizardry.”

I ate another mouthful, then another. “And he does it well.”

“You’re welcome.”

We ate in a companionable silence, savouring every mouthful. It was then I noticed the clock on the very aptly named Clock Hotel. “Oh crap. I didn’t realise the time.”

“Need to get ready for a hot date?” he asked, then baulked. “I mean… it’s not my business if you are, because if we’re doing this only-friends thing, then—” He waved his chopsticks. “—go forth and date at will.”

I stabbed another mouthful of heaven and shoved in it my mouth. It gave me a second to get my thoughts in order. “No date tonight. Unless dinner with my best mate and his wife counts? Although Veronica has been trying to set me up with every not-straight man she knows. It’s painful, if I’m being honest.”

He looked genuinely stricken. “Ugh. You have my sympathies.”

“Apparently it’s not a blind date. Not this time, anyway. Just dinner, probably wine, and some laughs. I don’t want to date just anyone,” I said, eating another mouthful.

His lips twisted in some kind of pout, but he didn’t say anything.

“And I’m completely okay with the friends-only thing,” I added. “And I mean it.”

He nodded quickly. “Yeah, me too. But I do owe you another coffee, and it’s completely normal for friends to meet for coffee.”

“It totally is.”

He stared at me and I tried to ignore the rise and fall of his chest, his pink lips, or the grey clarity of his eyes. “Uh, yeah coffee… I was thinking maybe next weekend or before a movie or something. Because that’s what friends do, right?”

My smile widened. “Absolutely. So? Next weekend?”

“And every afternoon on the bus,” he said. “Well, not coffee. But if you can save me a seat, we can talk at least. It’s okay if you can’t. Don’t go kicking some old lady out of a seat on my behalf.”

“I won’t. But I do have a lot more questions, and there’s so much we didn’t get around to talking about.”

He smirked. “A question a day? Will five minutes be long enough?”

“Probably not. But you do have my number if you’d rather text.”

He blushed again. “I do.”

“I better get going.” God, leaving him was the last thing I felt like doing. “But Monday, yeah? On the bus?”

“On the 353 at 5:06. I’ll be the one with the matching shoes and scarf.”

“I’ll be the one… well, I’ll just be the one on the bus that’s probably smiling at you.”

Jordan’s smile became more of a grin and his cheeks tinted pink. “There’s a good chance I’ll also be the one who trips over, takes out some poor guy in his fall, and yells out motherfucker really loudly, horrifying just about everyone on the bus.”