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“No, I don’t,” I argue, although I’m unsure why.
She glares at me with wide eyes. “Sure you do.” Everything about her expression demands to know what the hell I’m doing turning down a guy who looks like that.
“Or, I can stand here and talk to you, if you prefer?” The handsome stranger suggests, a knowing glint in his eye.
“No, don’t do that,” I exclaim out in a panic. “I’ll sit with you.”
He beams. “Great.”
I make drinks for both of us—which he pays for—before following him to an empty table tucked away in the corner of the room.
I’m so nervous that my palms are sweating, which is ridiculous. I’ve been on dates before.
Yeah, but not with men who look like him.
Dammit, that doesn’t help!
His eyes trail over me before he smiles. It’s filled with confidence, and I can’t help wishing I had that same aura about me.
“My name’s Conor,” he says warmly, his thick accent drawing his name out and making it sound rough and sexy.
“Mia.”
He grins. “I know.”
Right. Of course.
“You’re, uh, Irish?” I ask instead, filling the awkward silence.
“I am.”
“Did you grow up there?”
“Nah. My grandparents did before they moved over here. I’ve visited it several times, however. Beautiful country. Lots of green countryside.”
I simply nod, not knowing what to say but enjoying how his voice washes over me. I could sit and listen to him talk for hours.
“What about you? You clearly didn’t grow up in the city.”
I blush. “Is it that obvious?”
He chuckles, but not maliciously, before leaning forward to capture a strand of hair between his fingers. The motion brings him closer, and I inhale his citrusy cologne. “You’re not like other city girls I’ve met. You’re different. I like it.” I blush, and his thumb brushes along my cheek.
“I like that, too. Makes me wonder what else I could do to make you blush.”
Oh, my.
My mouth is suddenly dry and heat floods my core. I’ve never reacted to someone so viscerally, and when I find the courage to glance up into his vibrant green eyes, a mirror image of the fields of his home country, I fall even further under his spell.
We spend the next thirty minutes talking. I learn that he manages a number of nightclubs in the area, but other than that, he doesn’t speak much about his work. He also has a large family and is the youngest brother, although again, he didn’t volunteer any more information.
I divulge to him all about the small town I grew up in, my mom, that I moved to the city because I wanted to see more of the world and experience life outside my little town. After the initial awkwardness, the conversation mostly flows easily, and I find myself feeling as though I’ve known him for ages. We just click. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s drop-dead gorgeous. I’ve never had that before—the whole package.
Generally, I date a guy because he’s nice, but there isn’t much chemistry there, or because I think he’s gorgeous, except we don’t have much to talk about. It’s rare to find someone who has both.
At the end of our… date?... he asks if he can see me again, and I say yes. There’s no hesitation or uncertainty when I give him my phone number. After he gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek and leaves the coffeehouse, I bounce over to Carla with a huge grin.
I fidget with my necklace as I stare at myself in the mirror, psyching myself up for my first proper date with Conor. Butterflies have been attacking my stomach all afternoon, making me jittery. However, I smile at my reflection. I look good. Really good.
