“Well, for starters, you can’t choke up when Ethan asks you to hand him a piece of paper.”
I slap my forehead, groaning. “I was nervous!”
He tilts his head, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I get it, trust me,” he says warmly, yet a playful tone hangs from it. “But come on, you’re really going to let a piece of paper win this battle?”
“He makes me nervous. Approaching guys makes me nervous. I haven’t gone on a date in a year. How embarrassing is that?” I cover my face to hide the tomato shade it turns.
“Hey,” he says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “There’s nothing embarrassing about that. You just need a little practice, that’s all.”
I peek at him through my fingers, my voice muffled. “Practice? Like what, handing out papers?”
He laughs, shaking his head. “No, not handing out papers. Although, I wouldn’t be against a drill or two if you think it’d help.”
I lower my hands, giving him a look. “Very funny.”
He leans forward slightly. “Seriously though, I’m talking about getting comfortable around guys. We can start slow, no pressure.”
“And how exactly do you suggest we do that?”
“For starters, we can work on your confidence around me,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“You?” I blink, confusion flashing across my face. “Why you?”
“Well, you’re already comfortable enough to tell me you haven’t been on a date lately,” he points out, his tone gentle but firm. “And we’re friends, so there’s no risk. Plus”—he smirks—“I’m a pretty good catch for a practice run.”
“We’re already”—I glance around—“dating. How would I practice on you?”
Jared holds a hand up. “Oh, but Miss Allison, you underestimate me.”
I squint at him even though I’m kind of interested in this nonsense. “Alright, I’ll bite. What exactly are you getting at?”
He sits back, an unruly glint in his eyes. “Think of it as a crash course. We take the pressure off by using me as your practice dummy. You’ll get comfortable, we’ll work on whatever makes you nervous, and before you know it, you’ll be handling guys like Ethan without batting an eye once we’re broken up.”
I nod and admit defeat with a light sigh. “Okay, let’s do it.” I straighten my back as though confidence would surge from it.
“You’re going to walk out, walk back in, and approach me like we’re at a club and you want my number.”
I’m quiet for a few seconds, and then I start laughing. “Funny, really funny.” My laughter soon fades away once I realize the serious look on his face. Oh, he meant it. “Jared, no.”
“Yes,” he says, not budging an inch. “It’s just us, and this is your safe space to mess up, laugh, and learn.”
I shake my head, feeling a bit of panic rising. “I’m not doing that. People are going to think I’m crazy.”
“No one’s paying attention,” he reassures, glancing around the café. “And even if they were, who cares? This is for you.”
I bite my lip at the idea of walking out and coming back in like this—it feels like some weird role-playing scenario. “I don’t know.”
He leans closer. “Alli, you can do this. It’s just a simple walk and talk. If it helps, think of it as a game. No stakes, no judgment, just us.” He explains, his tone calm and collected—the complete opposite of how I feel.
I study him, still skeptical about it all, but there’s something in the way he’s looking at me, like he really believes this could work and help me in the long run. I take a deep breath, feeling my heart race.
“Fine. But if I trip over my own feet, I’m blaming you.” The playful spark reappears in his eyes.
“Deal. Now go, Alli girl.”
I push back my chair and stand up, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. As I head toward the door, I can feel his gaze on my back, a silent pat on the back of both support and challenge in the way he watches me. I pause at the entrance, take another deep breath, and then turn around, walking back toward our table with as much confidence as I can muster.
It’s like a scene out of the movies where I’m walking in slow-mo and Jared is sitting looking hot and shining. His eyes find mine, and though I don’t want to admit it, it feels like the world narrows down to just the two of us. I make it back to the table, trying not to break the confident stride, and slide back into my seat, my heart pounding.
