As I pull into the parking lot, music blaring, I try to push aside my nervousness for excitement. Putting my car in park, I pull down the rear view mirror and apply a coat of chapstick. I check my makeup, minimal as it is, and glance down at the clock. I pride myself on being early, but tonight I was right on time. I couldn't stand the thought of sitting in this bar by myself for any longer than I had to, no matter how hot this guy was. I pull out my phone to text my best friend "here" to accompany her previous requests for the time and location of the meeting - 7 pm, american knock off of a british pub. I had also previously sent his photo in case, in her words, she needed to tell the police I had been stolen. His deep brown eyes stopped me for a moment before I slipped my phone into my pocket. Opening the car door, the crisp fall air brushes against my face and I wrap my sweater around me tighter.
We had talked for almost two weeks now - first on the app, but we quickly moved to texting. I already loved how confident he seemed, but I had been disappointed by first dates enough to know nothing was certain until we met. Quickening my step, I pull open the heavy wood door against the wind. I feel my hair, down and curly, swirl up around my head then fall as the door shuts heavily behind me. I reach up to touch my hair and scan the bar, but he's already closing the space between us.
My name escapes his lips, a low rumble over the bar noise- "Jessica?" His hand outstretched to shake mine, and as our skin touches I feel my face flush. In a millisecond, my entire body is alive. His hand is warm, rough, with thick fingers. Those brown eyes locked on to mine and I feel like I can't breathe -
"Yes, sir!" My awkwardness palpable as his calloused hand releases mine after a shake.
"It'll be quieter in here," he says and I swear he smirks as he gestures toward a side room. I walk around him to see a smaller area of the bar with private booths. Walking in front of him, I suddenly feel his hand on the small of my back guiding me the right direction. I hold my breath as the warmth from his hand penetrates through my sweater to my skin. Only seconds and we're in the booth, but my heart's pounding. Pull yourself together, girl.
I push my hair behind my ears and take a deep breath, focusing on centering myself. Letting it out and opening my eyes, I see him watching me. I smile easily, biting my lip. My face flushes again. Keeping eye contact, he asks "Have you ever been here?" I haven't and he tells me his best friend is one of the chefs here. "A lot of people think it's just a bar, so I'm trying to convince them to work on their marketing, but - they think if it's not broke, don't fix it." I look around the room and see it is quite full of people.
"So, you know this place intimately... You have recommendations?"
"Oh I wouldn't presume to know what you like, Jessica," the way he said it, somehow flirtatious. I feel like he knew exactly what I would like. I smile nervously, feeling like a freaking fifteen year old on her first date.
"Well Steven, I'm pretty adventurous..." I look over the menu for a beat before continuing, "But my spice tolerance is pretty weak if that's a consideration." I laugh quietly, noticing the entire "five alarm" section which seemed to just be things covered in hot sauce.
He laughs with me, "Not everything on the menu completely represents my friend's culinary skills, it is still a bar." We settle on spinach artichoke dip and two hard ciders. He double checks my order with me - any sauces, sides, special requests - and when the waitress comes to take our order, he orders for both of us. Which is good, because she is paying special attention to my date. I'm not usually a jealous person, but it does make me feel good when he is polite but not flirty back.
Our conversation flows easily, the basics already covered in our previous chats. We laugh often and I feel comfortable with him in a way I never have before. Two ciders in and flushed, I pull my sweater off exposing a freckled shoulder for a moment before I pull my shirt back up. I catch him watching me and I see a fire behind his eyes. I bite my lip again, smiling stupidly at him.
"I like you," he says quietly, just for me to hear.
"Oh, we're barely three hours in," I laugh embarrassed, not used to such forwardness. He looks intently back at me.