Page 61 of Lost Love on 6th Street

“Then again you said you weren’t going to rush things. I guess I should have expected it would take you a few business days to reach out to me.”

I laugh. “No, I wanted to reach out to you today. In fact, I was going to.”

“But?”

My mouth is so hot, and my palms are sweating so bad. Why didn’t I get iced coffee? “I got nervous too.”

“I never said I was nervous,” she says with a smug smile.

What a far cry from the hesitant and tender-footed woman I met weeks ago. She’s coming out of her shell and making herself at home in Austin. In my heart too. Damn her. “Fine, you weren’t nervous. But I was.”

Eleanor laughs. “I find it hard to believe that you get nervous.”

“What?! I absolutely do. Especially around you.”

Her eyes widen. “That’s silly.”

“No, it’s not. Not at all. I want to get it right with you.”

“There’s nothing to get right.”

“Uh, yeah there is.”

We both go quiet. The swell of 6th Street speaks for us. Life goes on. It moves. The music plays.

We only have so much time on this earth. If there’s anything I’ve learned from losing my dad, it’s that. And Diane too.

Being nervous, being scared is a waste of it.

I wish I had a free fucking hand to gesticulate or nervously scratch my jaw. Instead, I’m stuck with all this coffee. “Okay, Eleanor.”

“Yes, Luke.”

I pinch my lips together in a smile. She’s so cute and sassy. “I’d like to take you on a date.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, tilting her head to the side.

“Would you . . . let me?” It’s coming out all stilted and weird, but at least it’s coming out.

“Yes, obviously,” Eleanor answers without hesitation.

Every organ in my body somersaults with excitement. I don’t want to taint this, so I resolve to keep the dishonesty down. It won’t be hard if I know what I might lose. “Okay, well, that’s good.”

“When?” she asks.

“Wednesday?” I offer.

“Deal.”

“Deal?”

“Yeah! It’s a deal.”

“It’s not a deal, it’s a date.”

“Whatever.”

I bite my lower lip. I look forward to more of this rapport on Wednesday. I know conversation can be easy with Eleanor, but colored by explicit romance is uncharted territory. Gotta up my game. “Okay, well, I’ll pick you up.”

---