Jack paced back and forth in front of his mattress. He had spent the entire morning debating on whether or not to call Kieran and had decided on trying to find out as much information as he could before calling.

What his search produced had left him swimming in disappointment. There were plenty of old addresses and a few articles reviewing the quality and atmosphere of Kieran's antique shops. Surface level, there was plenty. A tidy paper trail all laid out for him to find. Most of it was listed on the store's website, and he'd been able to easily confirm the information within quick and legal means.

A pair of dead parents each had their own obituary with lovely little sentiments written by Kieran. Schools, cities, and venues existed. A degree and graduation date matched up with a list of alumni for the university.

Other than that, there was nothing. It wasn't necessarily a bad sign, but he couldn't find anything relevant outside the antique store. The closest thing he found to an arrest record was a police blotter for vandalism to one of the store's old locations. If anything, there should have been more reports. Once Jack started comparing the addresses with crime maps, he found that Kieran's store skirted the edges of relatively bad neighborhoods.

He shouldn't feel like he was supposed to find some major skeletons hiding in Kieran's closet. He shouldn't be disappointed that he couldn't find an excuse to avoid any form of relationship.

He stopped pacing and pulled his phone from his back pocket. His entire day had been wasted at the library, trying to find something on Kieran's character, and now it was early evening. He dialed the first few numbers then stopped.

"Get a grip," he said to himself. "It's just a phone call. Not like he'd be at work right now anyway." Unless the number was for a cellphone. He checked the number again.

The store's website was so old school, that it had to be a landline. The contact hours were specific, so even if it was a cell number, Kieran probably wouldn't answer. Candace didn't answer her own work phone outside of her normal hours. It was a reassuring thought that gave him the confidence he needed. He could leave a message and worry about a return call in the morning.

He nodded with determination and turned his phone on once more. He dialed the number and held his breath. It was with a lurch of his stomach that he realized he should have written down and rehearsed what his message was going to be.

The tone rang twice before the other end picked up.

"Kieran O'Byrne," answered Kieran.

Jack froze on his end. Did this guy turn up the accent when answering his phone?

"Hello?"

"H-hi," he croaked. He closed his eyes and cursed himself. It was just a stupid Irish accent. It wasn't charming. It wasn't special.

"Yes, hi. May I ask who's calling? You sound familiar."

"Er… It's, uh, Jack. Elster. I…I'm calling," he replied, cringing as the words left his mouth. Why the hell did he say his surname? "I mean… You asked me to?"

"Oh, yes! Jack. What a delight it is to hear your voice," said Kieran.

Jack sat on his mattress and mumbled "Can't be that great."

"Sorry, I didn't hear that," Kieran replied.

"You're just making that up," Jack said glumly. How could anyone be "delighted" to hear another's voice? Especially his boring Midwestern nothing of an accent with a haphazard smattering of learned pronunciation from living in the North East for too long. It sounded like a cheap pickup line. He knew it was a cheap pickup line.

He kind of liked it.

"Nonsense. You have a wonderful voice, and I will always be filled with joy whenever I hear it," Kieran replied.

Jack let out a laugh and looked out the window. Dark clouds were gathering. He hoped it wasn't an omen. He rolled his eyes at what was clearly Candace's influence. The weather report had called for drizzle later that night, not dark omens about his decisions.

"You're just trying to butter me up," he said, turning away from the window.

"Yes, but I can't help it if it's true. I could listen to you babble incessantly about nothing all day."

"Next, you'll be saying that you could get off from me reading the phonebook." Jack lightly tugged at his hair then stopped the moment he began twirling it between his fingers. He glared accusingly at his hand.

"It's worth a try, if you're game," Kieran replied. "I have an extensive collection of some rather boring books if you'd like to come over and read them."

"C-come over?" The image of sitting curled up on a couch and reading books with Kieran wore at Jack's defenses. It was a tempting thought.

"Why not? I have nothing planned for tonight. We could perhaps go out and take in a movie," Kieran suggested. "And end with some light reading."

"But, uh… I've already made plans." Plans to stare at the ceiling and flinch at every unfamiliar sound. Besides, he had an idea of what "light reading" really meant.

"You needn't lie. You wouldn't have called if you had plans," Kieran said. His voice was light and teasing, not accusing.

Jack had been hopeful for setting up a date, but he hadn't considered that it would be an outcome to his phone call. Not immediately, and certainly not for that night.

"I could meet you at your place."

"No! That's alright. I can meet you somewhere else," Jack said. If he was going to do anything with Kieran, it would be in a well-lit, public area, surrounded by witnesses.

"Very well." Kieran made a thoughtful hum. "I need to close up shop, so you can meet me here. There are plenty of restaurants within walking distance. The address is printed on my card. I'm assuming you still have it?"

"Er, yeah. I think I know where you're at," Jack replied. He knew exactly where the store was. "I could be there in about fifteen minutes or so."

"So this means you're coming?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"I look forward to seeing you."

"Yeah, um… Bye."

Jack hung up the phone and dropped it on the bed. He wondered what was up with him. He'd just agreed to meet a man he barely knew for a date. But that was normal. Strangers met up all the time without incident. With his luck, it would end in disaster, and he'd get to go home and wallow in his self pity.

With a heavy sigh, he stood up. He might as well get it all over and done with. He grabbed up his laptop bag and made sure it held his lipstick taser and pepper spray before darting out the door, flipping the lock on his way out.

Jack was halfway down the block when it began to drizzle. By the time he reached the street corner, it was pouring. He jogged back to his apartment, uncertain of how he felt about his excuse for flaking out. He reached into his pocket and came up empty. He looked in his laptop bag, hoping he'd tossed his keys in by accident.

The inside of the bag was dry, but void of keys. And his phone.

Ice filled his stomach, and his hands went numb as he stared helplessly at his door. This wasn't part of his routine. He should have double-checked everything before leaving. He hated being thrown off.

Biting his lip, he went over his options.

He could always ask the landlord to let him in, but he was pretty sure he was behind on his rent and couldn't remember if Sam had sent him a bill for paying it for him. If he had any quarters, he could use a payphone and call up Sam to find out or get his spare key. If they hadn't been ripped out last year. The businesses close by that knew him were all closed by now, so that wouldn't work.

It looked like Kieran was his closest and least awkward option. It would also serve as a shining display of what a future between them would look like.

He pulled his hood back up and headed out once more. It was times like this that Jack wished he'd invested in an umbrella or proper coat.