Sebastian jerked her away from the door, cupped her cheeks in his hands, and kissed her. She squeaked in surprise, but she started kissing him back almost immediately, her arms winding around his neck. One of her hands slid through his hair, and that felt good, too, but not as good as her lips and her tongue stroking his.
“Woo-hoo!” someone shouted.
Amber and Sebastian jumped back from each other. There were a couple teenagers standing nearby. Were those kids even old enough to be in university? Were they drunk, despite it being before seven on a Wednesday evening?
Sebastian took Amber’s hand and pulled her inside.
“Sorry for kissing you in public,” he mumbled.
Her cheeks were a little pink. Perhaps she was a touch embarrassed—or maybe that flush was just from his kissing skills—but she didn’t seem too bothered.
He’d kissed her because he’d wanted her to stop babbling...
And because he’d simply wanted to kiss her.
They ordered their bubble tea, and he handed over a twenty-dollar bill before Amber could get her wallet out.
“Hey!” she said. “You’re not allowed to pay.”
“Why not?
“This isn’t a date. We’re friends. I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.”
“I’m not. We took your car, so I’m paying.”
“Fine, fine,” she muttered with an exaggerated frown.
They took a seat by the window, next to some kids wearing University of Waterloo sweatshirts. Geez, he felt old. The people around them were all in their late teens and early twenties, and he was the grumpy old guy.
Though he was sitting with the prettiest woman in the tea shop.
“I can’t believe you got banana milk tea.” She gestured to his cup.
He took a sip and got a tapioca pearl and mango jelly along with the milk tea. “Why not? Banana is delicious.”
“Ugh. You were probably one of those kids who liked getting sick so you could have that stupid banana-flavored medicine.
“Amoxicillin.”
“Yeah. That.”
“I wouldn’t say I liked being sick, but if I was, I always hoped I’d have to take it.”
She shook her head, as though he was hopeless, but in an affectionate way. “I only like cooked banana. Banana bread, for example, is delicious. But that? Not for me.”
Amber had ordered taro milk tea with tapioca, and she looked cute with her lips wrapped around that straw.
She also looked cute in that vest. He’d suddenly developed a massive thing for vests.
“If I remember correctly,” he said, “my parents told me you work at the Stratford Festival.”
“Yeah. In marketing.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s perfect for me. I always wanted to work in the arts, but not actually performing. I had a few jobs in Toronto after I graduated.”
“I didn’t know you lived in Toronto.”
“For a couple years. Did whatever work I could get—which wasn’t always related to my degree. A lot of temp stuff.”
“Did you like Toronto?” he asked.
“I enjoyed being there, but I didn’t want to live there permanently. I guess after growing up in a small town, the big city was a bit overwhelming. My current life suits me just fine.”
He was glad she had a career she enjoyed. Not everyone managed that—especially not by the time they were twenty-six. He liked his, but it was stressful at times, especially now that he was running his own practice.
It had been barely a month, though. It would get easier.
But he’d had to give bad news to a patient today, and that was always tough.
Yeah, he’d really needed this time away from home tonight. He felt awkward thanking Amber for it, but he reached over and gave her hand a quick squeeze.
She looked a little baffled.
His phone rang and he checked the display. “It’s my mom.”
“It’s okay, you can get it,” Amber said.
He picked up the phone. Probably best to answer, as she might keep calling otherwise.
“Hi, Mom,” he said. “I’m kind of busy right now, so if you could keep this short, that would be good.”
“What are you doing? Are you still at work?”
“I’m out with a friend.”
“Which friend?”
“Not someone you know.”
Across the table, Amber laughed, apparently amused that she was a “friend,” even though she’d called him that just ten minutes before.
“Come over for dinner tomorrow,” Mom said. “I will make your favorite, but I need you to take down the Christmas lights.”
“Surely that’s not a rush. Christmas was three weeks ago. Can I come on the weekend instead? Another couple days won’t hurt.”
His mother clucked her tongue. “Tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay. But why can’t you or Dad take down the Christmas lights?”
“Your father could break his neck. He is getting old. Do you want that on your conscience?”
“No, of course not.”
“Tell me who this friend is. I heard a woman’s laughter. Is this friend a girl? Do you already have a new girlfriend?”
“That’s just someone sitting at the next table.”
“Why are the tables so close together? What kind of place are you at?”
“A bubble tea shop,” he said.
“In Stratford?”
“In Waterloo.”
“Why did you drive all the way to Waterloo on a work night?” she demanded.
“Look, Mom, I really have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He set down his phone and massaged his temples.
“You are such a pushover,” Amber said.
He shrugged. “After years of being out of the province and only visiting once a year, I’m now less than an hour away. I feel like I owe them. I can let myself be pushed around a bit, but I draw the line at moving in next door.”
“Why did you go so far away for med school?”
“I didn’t get into any med schools in Ontario.”
She nodded. “I know it’s competitive.”
He was glad he’d gone to the other side of the country—it was nice to experience something different. But now he was back home. Not Ashton Corners, but close.
He’d always intended to work in a small town. Some towns found themselves without a doctor when theirs retired. At least in southern Ontario, the towns weren’t too isolated, but still.
Amber gestured at his toque, which was sitting on the
