As he drove me home that night, I had a sinking feeling that there wasn’t going to be a second date.
He hadn’t said anything, but I could already sense his disapproval in the air. It was hard to tell what I did wrong, though, because the night went so well. The food had been delicious, and our conversation more so. I laughed at all the right moments, unleashed my wittiest stories, smiled like nothing in the world could bring me down.
Most of all, I was pretty sure I looked great. I wasn’t Miss Universe or anything, but I did get my hair and make up done professionally. (Wouldn’t you, if your crush asked you out, and you had the means to afford it?)
Still, something didn’t feel right.
The silence was deafening by the time we arrived. He pulled over and cut the engines, leaving only the light from the nearby lamppost to illuminate us inside.
I blinked in confusion as he reached out for the box of tissues on the dashboard and handed it to me. “What’s this for?”
He hesitated, but he also seemed to know it was too late to back out of what he’d started. So he settled for a smile, and, gosh, I loved that smile, even if it looked really uncomfortable right now. “Don’t get me wrong, okay? I had a lot of fun tonight, and you look great. B-but…”
He swallowed, suddenly unable to meet my gaze. “I really would like to kiss you,” he said in a rush, almost inaudibly (of course, I heard every word and I had to exert maximum effort not to erupt in a fit of squeals and giggles).
What he said next, though, was what surprised me the most. “But I’d like to do that without all that… stuff on your face.”
I couldn’t help it; I just started laughing. Really laughing. Gosh, he was just too adorable. And I knew that make up remover I’d secretly stashed in my purse would come in handy. Ha!
I must’ve thrown him into a state of panic, because he started apologizing, rambling about how I was prettiest in my natural state, blah blah blah.
But I wasn’t really listening anymore. I was hurrying up so he could kiss me.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.