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Once we order dinner, there has definitely been a shift because almost all the questions he asks me are personal ones—nothing about work. Halfway done with my drink, I decide it’s time to put on my big girl panties and ask what I have been wondering all evening, “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, I just don’t want to misread the situation. Is this a business dinner, or is this…a date?”
I bite my lower lip awaiting his response—which feels like eternity, even if it's only a few seconds. “Emma, you’re right. I was actually hoping it would be a date. But if you prefer we keep things professional, I completely respect that.”
“Well, I was planning on discussing potential advertising over drinks, my treat of course, but…I would be more than ok if this was a date instead.” I feel a blush creeping up my neck to my cheeks.
As if his trademark dimpled grin couldn’t get any wider, I swear it just did. I have never met a man who looks at a woman, the way he is looking at me. It’s something movies are made of.Maybe Katie was right all along, and it was actually the perfect meet cute afterall.
“So, to be clear, putting an ad in our magazine isnotsomething you want to do,” I say in jest, not a question, as I continue to slowly sip my drink. I should look away, but when someone like him is challenging you to a staring contest, you don’t let him win.
As he takes a drink, he quietly says into his glass, “There are at least thirty things I want to do with you, and thatdefinitelyisn’t one of them.”
I nearly spit out my gin and tonic. With how his eyes darken, I know I heard and understood him correctly.Oof, this guy is trouble.
“So, tell me, when was the last time you went to a baseball game?”
I appreciate him changing the subject. The flirting is making it way too hot in here.It's hot in here,right?“I haven’t been in a while but used to have season tickets down in San Diego, when I was younger.”
His smile meets his eyes. My guess is he loves baseball as much as I do. “We should go sometime when they’re playing up here.”
“Getting ahead of ourselves, are we, Mr. Alexander? For all you know, tonight could be the date from hell, and I’ll never want to see you again.” I am having way too much fun teasing him, but I swear I heard him exhale a groan when I called him that.Interesting.
“You and I both know how this is going to go.” He is so confident, but I know there's so much truth to his words. I've been so drawn to him since the moment we met.
The rest of dinner is filled with laughs and basic “get to know you” conversation. Sadly, he brought the flirting down a notch, but I’ve enjoyed learning more about him. He's driven and one of the youngest in his line of business—which I relate to being 21 and up for promotion, after only working at the magazine for a month.
When we are done eating, he drives me back to the office. I need to grab my laptop upstairs, before I head to the train station across the street. My hand moves to the handle to open the car door, but he stops me, with his hand on my thigh. I suck in a breath. When I look up at him, he’s shaking his head. “Don’t you dare. That’s my job.” I can’t help but smile at the chivalry, even if my body is on fire.
Once we are both out of the car, I know this is the moment that will make or break us. If he is an amazing kisser, I’m a goner. If he is a horrible kisser, I don’t know if I can save face seeing him at events. There’s something about him, though—I have a feeling it’s going to be the former.
He takes a step toward me, reaching out to hold my hand, his thumb gently caressing the top of mine. “I had an amazing time tonight,” he says as he reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear.
“I did as well,” I reply, wetting my lips in anticipation. He leans forward and I lift my heels to meet him halfway, as he presses his warm lips to mine. It’s soft, gentle, but I sense he is holding back. It isn’t the fireworks I was anticipating, and it isn’t an epic earth-shattering kiss you would read about in a romantic comedy, but the flutter in my stomach is unmistakable.I think I really like this guy!
He steps back and opens the door to my office building for me to walk through. “Have a great rest of your night.”That’s it?! That’s all I get.
I sigh. “You too.” I walk into my building looking back for a moment to watch him walking back to his car. Maybe it was all in my head, but the chemistry I have with him is like nothing I have ever felt.
About twenty minutes later, there's a text as I am boarding the commuter train. My heart stops. It’s him.
Dylan: I know your team isn’t playing, but will you join me for a game Saturday night?
Butterflies, settle down!I can’t wait for Saturday.
Chapter three
Emma
16 years later
“What?!Oh,comeon!How did that not end with a happily ever after?”
While I adore my friends, they are hopeless romantics. I’m sitting at dinner with Lily and Riley, and after two gin and tonics (and a very long winded recounting of my dating history with him), they can’t believe he wasn’tthe one. “She’s right, how did you not end up with him?!”
“Well, I’m not the one who ended it. He started dating someone else and…ghosted me.” I admit, playing with the napkin in my lap. That part always stings to talk about.
“No! There’s no way!” Lily, the queen of optimism, always sees the best in everyone.
“One hundred percent. Out of nowhere, my calls and texts went unanswered. I later found out that he started seeing someone else, but instead of ending things, he justpoofdisappeared. She was prettier than me and was into golf—you know how I hate golf.” I love sports, but golf is where I draw the line. I take a few more sips of my drink, waiting for their minds to be blown.
