“I’m glad you think so.” Jae gives me a soft smile before turning away. “It’s late. I’ll call you a ride, too,”
“I can walk,” I say.
“You sure? I have to close up.” Jae says.
“Yep, I’m all good.”
He holds the door open for me, and I step into the night.
“Wait, Riley,” Jae stops me, and I turn around. “Will you wait for me? We can walk back together.”
“I can wait,” I say after a moment, and he dips back inside. I wait outside while Jae turns off the lights and locks the door. We head south down 6th avenue, the city air chilly. After walking for a bit in silence, I try to think of something to say.
“So, do you have any other dating tips?” I ask.
“Use a condom?” Jae says and I bark out a laugh, not expecting that.
“No, seriously,” I try again. “What should I do? I don’t think I’ll ever make it through a real date.”
“Just be yourself, Riley,” Jae answers as we stop at a crosswalk.
“I’m not sure who I am these days,” I say, watching the light.
“You’re—you’re really?—”
“I’m what?” I ask.
“You’re really lovely.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I laugh. “We’re talking about me, right?”
“Yeah, we’re talking about you,” Jae laughs, his chuckle airy and light. “You’re not so bad once you open up a little.”
“I was a total bitch when I met you,” I remind him.
“Yeah, but you had a good reason,” Jae reminds me. “It was kind of endearing.”
“What a winning recommendation that is. I should putthatin my dating app bio.” That really makes me laugh .
“So, what are you looking for in a guy?” Jae asks me.
“That’s a good question,” I think about it. “He’d be sweet and kind, and has a cute smile…but he’d still be incredibly sexy,”
“Actually, I don’t want to know,” Jae says, laughing.
“Hey, you asked!” I retort. “Wouldn’t knowing help you help me practice or whatever?”
“I changed my mind, I already know your type.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I saw you looking at me the other day.” He says, and I stop walking. Jae takes a few steps ahead of me, and turns around when I don’t follow. The twinkling city lights illuminate him. Standing in a golden street light, he looks nearly angelic. “I’m your type.”
“Huh?” I ask.
“In my towel,” He recalls. “You couldn’t take your eyes off of me.”
“What?” I ask again, stunned at his accusation. While true, I didn’t want to admit it.
