I walked into the coffee shop and immediately locked eyes with Nick. I couldn’t stop the giddy smile from taking over my face, even though I worried that he would think I was a huge dork. We’d been texting back and forth for weeks, and I never actually expected to meet him in person – he seemed too good to be true. We shared a lot of similar interests and philosophies, and he was smart. Oh my god, was he smart? I’d never, in my twenty-five years, met a man who could actually hold a conversation. I was used to “what’s up?” and “wyd?” so he had to be some sort of bot or something, right?
Apparently not. The smile only grew wider as I walked towards him; he even looked like his pictures, if not better. I wondered what was going through his mind when he saw me. I really hoped he was just as enamored at first glance as I was. It was too soon, but I felt an immediate connection to him and my whole body tingled as I finally stood before him.
“Hey, how’re you doing, Ella?” He grinned and said. I tried to reply but all I could manage was a tiny giggle. He definitely thought I was a huge dork.
I pushed my short, copper curls behind my ear and tried again.
“It’s nice to meet you, in person.” Did I squeak? I probably squeaked.
We spent two hours in hard, uncomfortable chairs discussing our lives and our interests and exchanging sneaky, flirty glances at each other. I didn’t want the date to end, but it was getting to the point where we couldn’t think of anything else to say. He did most of the talking, but it wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t help but stare at the way his biceps pushed against the edge of his short sleeves, or the way his whole face lit up and crinkled when he smiled.
And don’t get me started on his accent. The way he dropped his g’s and replaced his r’s with uhh’s had me clenching my thighs underneath the table. Not that I would ever let him know. I had a rule about sex – it could never happen earlier than the third date, and only after we’d had the conversation about where he saw things going.
I was a good girl. I wanted to be a good girl – I was dating to find my soul mate, the man I would spend the rest of my life with and I quickly realized in college that sleeping with guys on a first date only gave them the impression that I was easy. So, three dates.
A few minutes of silence went by as I awkwardly fidgeted in my seat. He finally, unfortunately, stood up and reached out for my hand to pull me from my seat.
“I guess we’d better get going unless there’s anything else you can think of for us to do?”
I looked at him cautiously, a little of the euphoria dissipating at his assumption that I would go home with him after the first date. He seemed perfect, until literally this moment, and I could feel all my defenses start to rise.
“I’m not going home with you,” I replied quietly. I meant to put more oomph in it, but my voice came out meek. He just grinned at me again and started leading me into the parking lot.
“I wasn’t trying to suggest anything – I simply meant that I don’t want the night to end yet, so I was wondering if you had any other ideas of places I could take you? A late dinner, maybe?”
I melted again, looking at him with what I was sure were big, doe eyes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get defensive. I’ve just been on a string of really… bad dates lately. And this has been going so well... I don’t want the night to end either, but I can’t think of anywhere to go, unless...” I trailed off. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing to go back to his place, right? If I put clear boundaries in place, it should be fine. And he did just make it clear that sex wasn’t his intention. I think.
“I ate dinner before we met up, but I guess we could go back to your place to hang out a little longer. Maybe watch a movie? I just have to tell you one thing first...” I laughed nervously, my cheeks flushing. I thought about making some sort of joke, but I’d already started and I was worried I would chicken out.
“I have a three-date rule,” I finally blurted out.
He just looked at me curiously. “I thought you were about to tell me you’re wanted for murder or something with how serious you got.”
I scoffed. “No, of course not! I just want to make it very clear that I’m not interested in…having sex with you tonight. Not that I’m not interested in you, or interested in sex with you. I’m very interested in both you and sex. And sex with you. I just mean that it’s not going to happen tonight. I understand if you want to end the date here, I just w…”
“Stop,” he chuckled. “It’s fine. I think you’re adorable. Stop worrying so much and let’s go.”
I followed him back to his place in my car, wondering the entire time what I was doing. This was definitely not like me, but I loved the way I was feeling around him and I didn’t want it to end. I was giddy with the anticipation of what would come next. I was extremely hopeful that this would turn into a relationship.
Once he pulled into a parking spot, nerves flared up in my stomach and I felt like I was going to be sick. I started to think of excuses to get me out of this. Anxiety was weighing me down and I started to overthink everything – we’d pretty much exhausted all topics of conversation over coffee, what else would we talk about? What movie would he put on? Would he ask me to choose? There’s no way I would be able to. Would he put his arm around me or kiss me? I really wanted him to kiss me and was hoping I wouldn’t have to wait until the end of the night.
My thoughts were interrupted by him lightly tapping on my window, where I was parked next to him. I took a deep breath, turned off my car, and opened the door. Just act normal, I repeated inside my head. The corner of his mouth tilted up and it was almost like he could tell what I was thinking. I could probably add intuitive to his list of positive qualities, which was growing surprisingly fast.
As soon as I stepped out of the car, he placed both palms on either side of me against the door and pressed his lips into mine. Butterflies came to life as tingles ran up and down my spine. His palms moved to rest against my waist as I put my arms around his neck and melted into him. His beard scratched against my face in the best way and his lips were impossibly soft and rough at the same time as they moved against mine.
After a few minutes, he pulled away and stared into my wide blue eyes.
“I wanted to get that out of the way.”
Speechless, and not sure exactly how to take that, I just smiled up at him. It’s not like I was going to complain about that kiss and now I couldn’t wait for more kisses.
“Please, don’t judge me too much. I really wasn’t expecting for this date to end up back at my place, so I didn’t do any cleaning today,” he said as we walked towards his front door.
I was still so nervous, and slightly turned on from the kiss, that I couldn’t come up with a reply. I really wasn’t sure why this man was into me – not only did I seem like a huge dork, but now I’d turned into a mute dork from my anxiety.
He opened the door and led me into a small, studio apartment. I could see the entire place from the entryway – the bed immediately to our right, the couch and TV next to it, and then the kitchen on the other side. I was guessing the bathroom must’ve been to the left. I was suddenly hyper-aware of how badly this could end. Did I really come back to a complete stranger’s apartment after a first date? I’d probably made up the connection and the fantastic conversations in my head. I was always told that I tended to look through rose-colored glasses. Oh god…