I fought a rising blush and glanced around, hoping he didn’t pick up on my embarrassment. I liked him, but I hadn’t been on a second date in so long that I didn’t know how to handle second-date compliments.
It was the Wednesday after my canceled meeting with Sebastian, and Zack and I were having drinks at a beautiful Victorian-themed bar downtown. With its crystal chandeliers and ornate woodwork, the space was romantic enough to eschew the typical cheesy V-Day decor. However, it was running a holiday special, and the room was packed with couples taking advantage of both the ambiance and the two-for-one drinks.
“Let’s toast.” Zack held up his glass. “Here’s to discounted drinks and arriving early enough to snag a seat so we don’t have to stand.”
I laughed and clinked my glass against his. “Cheers to that.”
Zack and I met at Ayana’s holiday party in December. He was a photographer, which was usually a red flag because I’d dated photographers in the past and they all turned out to be fuckboys, but he’d been so funny and genuine that I ended up talking to him for most of the night. When he asked for my number, I gave it to him.
Our first date was last month. He took me ice skating at Bryant Park, which had been the perfect mix of cute and casual. He’d left for a photoshoot in the Caribbean afterward, but we’dkept in touch via text, and when he told me he was back in town, I’d readily agreed to a second date.
It was going well so far. I just wished I couldfocuson him instead of the million distractions tugging at my mind.
I brushed aside an errant thought about whether Sebastian had a date this Valentine’s Day and smiled at Zack. “You said you’re a big skier, right? What’s your favorite ski destination?”
“Good question.” He appeared to give it serious thought. “Probably Chamonix in France. St. Anton in Austria is a close second. If we’re talking about the U.S., Jackson Hole and Alta are always a good choice. What about you?”
“I know how to ski, but I’m not a big winter sports person,” I admitted. “Give me a beach and aJetSki any day.”
He grinned. “I can see you riding the hell out of a Jet Ski.”
I waited for him to pivot back to skiing or his recent assignment in Aruba, but he changed the topic completely.
“We’ve been talking a lot about me,” he said. “Tell me about you. What have you been up to since the last time we saw each other?”
I masked my surprise with a sip of my drink.
A guy whodidn’ttalk about himself all night. Now that was rare.
Once I recovered, I told him about my month so far. I tried to highlight only interesting stuff, but the truth was, I hadn’t done much except work, hang out with my friends, and mentally prepare myself for Radhika’s wedding, which started next weekend.
“The wedding is in India?” Zack asked.
I nodded. “I’ll be there for a week. It’s a long time to take off work, especially with everything I have going on, but weddings are a big deal in my family.”
“I can only imagine.” He cleared his throat, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “So, do you have a date for the big event?”
My pulse skipped. “What would you say if I didn’t?”
“I’d say… you could. If you wanted one.”
I swallowed the remainder of my drink, my mind spinning. I’d resigned myself to showing up without a date because spending a week in India together was alotto ask of someone I wasn’t in an actual relationship with. But Zack seemed up for it, and he traveled so much for work that I wasn’t too worried about how he’d handle the trip.
“I definitely want one.” I paused. “Um, that was me asking if you’d like to be my date to the wedding. Just in case it wasn’t clear.”
A broad grin spread across his face. “It was, and I’m more than happy to be your plus-one. As long as you don’t snore during the flight, we’re golden.”
I laughed again, some of my anxiety loosening.
This was good. This was how flirting and datingshouldbe—light and fun, with none of the breathlessness and tension I felt whenever I was around Sebastian.
STOP thinking about Sebastian. Think about Zack. Z-A-C-K. Zack.
Our conversation flowed easily for a while before I excused myself to use the restroom.
I pushed through the crowd, my cheeks flushed and my head light after three cocktails. I was the perfect amount of buzzed, but I did sober up a bit when I took in the long line snaking out of the upstairs bathroom.
“Excuse me.” I flagged a passing server. “Do you have another restroom I can use? Normally, I wouldn’t ask, but Ireallyneed to go. Please.”
