Oh, God, why did I just talk about dog names for a solid five minutes, barely stopping to take a breath?
‘Wow, someone who likes dogs as much as I do,’ he eventually says with a smile. ‘That’s it, you’ve convinced me. I’m definitely going to get one.’
‘Glad to be of service,’ I tell him.
‘So, you live alone now?’ he asks.
‘Yes, in the city centre. I love being in the heart of the city. I grew up in a village, so it’s a completely different vibe.’
‘I grew up in a village too,’ he replies. ‘So I get exactly where you’re coming from. I live in Headingley now. It’s not quite the city centre but it’s alive with students pretty much 24-7. And it’s near work, so it’s perfect for me.’
‘I went to uni in Leeds so I know Headingley well,’ I reply.
‘How many times have you done the Otley Run?’ he asks.
‘Oh, God, a few,’ I reply. ‘But not for a long time. I don’t think I could handle it any more.’
‘We all still do it, at least once a year,’ he tells me. ‘We dress up, do it for charity.’
The Otley Run is the legendary pub crawl starting in Headingley and finishing in Leeds city centre. Participants will usually wear absolutely ridiculous fancy dress costumes to visit sixteen pubs along a one-and-a-half-mile route. Back when I was at uni, when I had uni friends, we did it a few times. I was the only local in my friendship group though, and everyone else moved back home after they graduated. I haven’t had anyone to do it with since.
I don’t know how long we chat for – it feels like forever. I don’t remember the last time I met someone and just hit it off with them like this. He’s so funny and charming. I certainly didn’t feel a genuine attraction like this towards any of my Matcher dates.
As I stare into his dark eyes, Millsy’s words ring in my ears: be more man. I do feel a lot more confident for my makeover, but not completely. If I’m going to do something bold, it isn’t going to come naturally, I need to act as if I’m confident and hope that the real deal isn’t far behind.
Without really thinking about it, and yet somehow still completely overthinking it, I do something completely out of character for me. I place a hand on either side of his face, lean in, and give him a kiss. It’s just a peck, before I quickly pull away, but it feels like progress.
‘Wow,’ he says.
I smile. Although I don’t think it was the kiss that blew him away so much as the surprise.
‘I realise this isn’t the best time to do this but I’ve just realised we never swapped names.’ He laughs, still sounding a little flustered.
‘Yes, we’re doing this in the wrong order, I think,’ I reply with a super-awkward, half-hearted chuckle. ‘I’m Cara.’
I offer him a hand to shake, which seems ridiculously formal considering I just planted a kiss on his lips.
‘I’m Johnny,’ he says, shaking my hand politely. ‘What are you doing tomorrow?’
‘Oh, not much,’ I reply. Of course, the real answer is absolutely nothing. ‘You?’
‘Well, I have work first thing in the morning.’
‘Work first thing on a Sunday – are you a priest?’ I joke.
Johnny laughs.
‘Nothing like that,’ he says. ‘I’m a rugby player. I’ve got some sponsorship meeting, nothing that means I can’t stay out a bit late.’
‘Oh,’ I blurt. ‘You know, I just need to go find my friend quick.’
‘OK,’ he says, not detecting my alarm. ‘Come back after.’
‘Mm-hmm.’
As I push my way through the crowd to find Millsy, suddenly all the big, muscular dudes make sense. Shit.
I find Millsy chatting up a petite brunette, which I suppose is on-brand for him.
I tap him on the shoulder. He does a double take.
‘Oh my God, if I don’t see you for a while, I forget that you look so different. I think you’re just a chick in a bar.’
I frown.
‘You know what I mean,’ he says.
‘Can I have a quick word with you?’ I ask.
‘Of course,’ he says. ‘Be right back, babe.’
My nose scrunches at his use of ‘babe’ – I guess this is the first time I’ve seen Millsy, the ladies’ man everyone keeps hinting at.
‘What’s up?’ he asks me when we’re alone.
‘Are you a rugby player?’ I ask him.
‘No,’ he replies.
I breathe a sigh of relief. I was worried for a second that everyone knew each other because they all worked together – and that they all knew Jackson too. I’m not exactly an expert at talking to men in bars, but I don’t imagine it’s a good look, seemingly flirting your way through a friendship circle.
‘I used to be their mascot.’
‘What does that mean?’ I ask, cocking my head curiously.
‘I was Leo the Lion,’ he says. ‘The Leeds Lions’ mascot. It was one of my first acting jobs – it’s a long story. I don’t do it any more but they still treat me like part of the team.’
‘So these are all Leeds Lions’ players?’ I check.
‘Yeah.’
‘So Johnny plays for them?’
‘Yeah,’ he confirms again. ‘Ooh, how did practising flirting with him go?’
‘Erm, fine, really well, actually. I kissed him.’
‘Oh, no, no, no, no,’ Millsy says. For the first time he looks a little worried, ushering me even further away from the crowd, towards the side of the room. ‘You weren’t supposed to kiss him, you were supposed to practise flirting with him. Everyone on this team who isn’t married – as well as a few who are – just sleep with as many girls as possible. I knew Johnny would hit on you, that’s why I encouraged you. To practise.’
‘But he was so sweet, and funny, and—’
'Talking about his dog?’
‘He said he was getting a dog…’
‘Yeah, that’s just what he does, that’s how he pulls,’ Millsy explains. ‘That’s why I suggested practising on him.’
‘I’m starting to think I shouldn’t be taking dating advice from you,’ I say with a sigh. I tug at my dress, as though it’s going to make it longer. ‘Or fashion advice.’
‘No, you look incredible,’ he insists. ‘But, yeah, OK, maybe I’ll lay off dishing out the dating advice. I don’t think what works for me is going to work for you.’
‘Anyway, I have bigger problems. Is there a player called Jackson?’
‘Yeah, Jackson Wolfe. Aussie fella.’
‘He’s the bloke I met at the bar yesterday.’
Millsy’s face falls.
‘Oh, God, no, don’t go near him,’ Millsy says. ‘Even the other players hate him. He’s a weird deviant. You say he approached you last night?’
I nod.
‘Yeah, he likes timid women, he’s not a great guy.’
‘Right, OK, fuck it, I don’t want a man at all. The makeover is great, if not slightly obscene, but no more men.’