Page 4 of Spring Fling

Her lips part in surprise. Those incredible blue eyes widen slightly.

Damn it. I’m blowing this already.

I knew I was rusty. I told my buddies that. Told myself that, too. But they were right. It was time to get back out there. Even if it felt awkward. Even if every step toward tonight felt like walking blindfolded on a narrow, rocky mountain path.

Clearing my throat, I step forward and offer her my hand. "Sorry I’m late. I got a little turned around. I don’t come to town often.”

She blinks up at me, long lashes fluttering like they could create a breeze, and places her hand in mine.

A spark jumps from her soft, warm skin to mine, lighting a fire in my veins.

"That’s okay…” she says, voice trailing off in a breathy note that goes straight to my head.

"Wade," I say quickly, needing to anchor myself in something before I make an ass of myself. “I’m Wade. It’s good to meet you."

Remembering the advice from my friends, I cobble together a compliment. “Your pictures on the app, well, they don’t do you justice, Tonya."

“Tonya. I’m Tonya. You’re Wade." She repeats our names like she’s trying them out. She must be nervous too.

"I'm sorry, but actually—" she starts, a little hesitation in her voice.

Before she can finish, the bartender, a redhead with a knowing smirk, cuts in.

"Tonya’s already had a couple drinks while she was waiting for you," she says. "First date jitters and all. But I have a feeling you two are going to have a great night."

Tonya shoots the bartender a quick, sharp look, some silent conversation passing between them.

I watch it unfold, a little confused, but mostly charmed.

If I had to guess, maybe she’s just got cold feet. The bartender’s trying to help her through it.

I can help, too. I want to help.

Now that I’m standing here, now that I’ve seen her, I don’t want the night to end before it’s even started.

Suddenly, my date turns her full attention back to me. Her grip on my hand tightens, and that tiny movement jolts something awake inside my chest.

"Hi." She moistens her lips, her voice gaining strength. "It’s nice to meet you."

All the blood rushes from my head and pools in my dick. I’m once again struck dumb.

Thankfully, the bartender steps in to save me again. "Your table is ready. The hostess will seat you."

Reluctantly releasing her hand, I fight the urge to place a guiding palm on the small of her back as we follow the hostess. I want to touch her again—God, Ireallywant to—but I don’t want her to think this is just about looks.

I want this to be real.

At the table, I pull out her chair. She pauses, brows lifting.

"Is this okay?" I ask, worried I’ve misread the situation already.

"It’s...very okay." A short laugh escapes her. "I’m just surprised. I thought chivalry was dead."

I smile awkwardly and sit down across from her.

"Not dead," I say, reaching for my napkin and trying not to fidget. "Just...hibernating. Like the rest of us after a long winter."

Her smile grows, a little softer, a little warmer. “Here’s to spring, then.”

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