“That’s worse.”
“Fair.”
She shifts her weight.
“I’m not interested in being part of your history.”
“You won’t be.”
“You say that now.”
“I said it before.”
“And I didn’t believe you then.”
I step closer.
“That’s fair too.”
She watches me carefully.
Like she’s waiting for a performance.
Instead, she gets honesty.
“I’ll prove it,” I say.
“How?”
“By showing up. Planning real dates. Not disappearing halfway through the night. Not flirting with anyone else while I’m standing next to you.”
Her eyebrows lift slightly.
“That last one feels targeted.”
“I’m learning.”
She smiles.
“And if I decide you’re not a gentleman?”
“Then I accept defeat and retrieve my car with dignity.”
“You are not getting that car back that easily.”
“See? Already attached.”
She rolls her eyes.
“You’re impossible.”
“And yet.”
“And yet,” she echoes softly.“When’s the date?” she asks.
“Tonight.”
“Blake.”
