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But is this a date? Or just two old acquaintances getting together?
I don’t know. In between working on my parents’ house and collecting petitions today (alone because Josh was busy at his ranch), I had plenty of time to doubt what happened yesterday.
I thought there was a real spark between Josh and me at his ranch. A true connection.
But it’s entirely possible that it was one-sided, and even though he liked me in high school, he no longer has those kinds of feelings for me.
If that’s the case, I need to be prepared. I need to go into tonight with zero expectations.
Stopping in the bar’s entranceway, I inspect myself in the mirror. My brown hair is pulled back in a loose braid, and I’mwearing a simple green dress that shows off my curves. I adjust my earrings nervously as I take a deep breath and step into the main part of the bar.
The Rusty Spur is a small, dimly lit spot that’s buzzing with activity. The jukebox plays an old country song, and the smell of fried food fills the air. The place is packed with people, but I spot Josh right away. He’s sitting at a booth in the corner, his broad shoulders taking up most of the space. One hand is wrapped around a cold beer while the other is tapping out a rhythm on the table.
As I approach him, he looks up and smiles, and something shifts inside me. Everything feels charged between us, like we’re standing in the eye of a storm.
“Hey there,” he says, gesturing for me to sit down.
I slide into the booth opposite him and try to keep my calm. It’s hard, though, when he looks so handsome in his plaid shirt and jeans, the stubble on his chin only adding to his rugged charm.
“Can I get you a drink?” He’s already up.
“Sure. Um, whatever you’re having.” I fiddle with my braid.
He nods and saunters to the bar, and I can’t stop myself from staring at the way his jeans hug his ass. I take a deep breath, trying to calm down. I can’t let him know how much he affects me.
“Here you go.” He returns with a beer for me, and I take a grateful first sip, eager to calm my nerves.
“So.” I clear my throat. “We were playing Truth or Dare…”
His eyes flash with something I can’t place. “Yep.”
I stare him down. “You still need to answer your truth. How did you feel about our kiss that night?”
He takes a long swig of his beer, seemingly deep in thought. My heart is pounding so loud in my chest that I can barely hear the music anymore. Finally, he sets down his bottle and looks straight at me.
“Honestly, I really liked it.” He pauses, eyes locked onto mine. “Erin, I wanted to kiss you long before that game.”
My breath catches. “You did?”
His chuckle is a warm balm for my soul. “I wanted to kiss you basically all through high school. I just could never gather up the courage to ask you out.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “I still don’t believe you were nervous.”
His face turns serious. “I know that I was popular, and I acted all confident and cool… but that doesn’t mean I actually was.”
I nod, understanding exactly what he means. “I thought you were so cool back then. I… I had a huge crush on you.”
There it is. I’ve put the truth out there, and it can’t be taken back.
“And I ruined it,” he says, bitterness lacing his words.
I don’t know what to say. Yes, he did ruin it.
But maybe it’s not too late. Maybe we can still salvage something, grow something from the wreckage.
My mind is trying to get in the way, trying to provide all these excuses about why that can’t happen — too much time has passed, we live in different places — but I shut it down. Tonight,I won’t be overthinking things for once. Tonight, I’ll be going with the flow.
“It’s your turn.” He folds his strong arms on the table and studies me. “Truth or dare.”
