Her cheeks flushed. “Okay. Well. Now I’m already flustered.”
“Sorry,” I said, not feeling sorry at all.
She stepped outside, shutting the door gently behind her, then gave a little shake of her hands like she was preparing for a race. “Let’s go before I overthink this into oblivion.”
“Good plan,” I answered.
As we walked down the path to my truck, a quiet fell between us—one that was comfortable, but charged. The kind of quiet where you felt the other person’s presence without needing to speak. When we reached the passenger door, I opened it for her.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said with a half-smile.
“I know.”
She hesitated, eyes softening, then climbed in. I circled to the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel. The truck rumbled to life, and she tucked her scarf a little tighter around herself as though grounding her nerves.
Once we pulled onto the road, she glanced over. “So… where are we going?”
“There’s a small place by the lake I heard about,” I said. “Good food. Quiet enough to talk. At least, that’s what Grace told me.”
She let out a breathy laugh. “Grace. Right. That’s terrifying.”
“Noted,” I said.
“Don’t you dare note that.”
“I already did.”
She elbowed me lightly, which sparked a warm sweep of electricity through me. It was too easy to smile around her, too easy to let the edges of my guard slip. We drove past the pines lining the road.
After a few minutes, she asked, “Are you nervous?”
I almost lied. But the way her eyes watched me, all open, curious, and hopeful in a fragile way, it made me tell the truth.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “A little.”
She blinked. “Really?”
“Really.”
“But you’re… steady. Calm. Stoic.”
“That’s just my outward-facing educational brochure,” I said dryly.
She laughed. “I feel misled.”
“Don’t worry. The real me panics internally.”
“That’s comforting,” she said, but her smile was softer now.
We pulled into the small lakeside restaurant. It looked like a renovated dive bar with hanging string lights and a porch overlooking the water. When we walked inside, warm light glowed off wooden beams, and the scent of roasted garlic drifted through the air.
The hostess greeted us and led us to a corner table with a view of the lake. As soon as we sat, I felt the shift—an awareness settling between us, quiet but undeniable.
Sienna picked up her menu, then set it down immediately, unable to focus. “Okay, this is weird.”
“What is?”
“This feels like a date.”
