Page 71 of Exes That Puck
I force myself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water helps with the headache, and by the time I’m toweling off, I actually feel human again.
I stand in front of my closet for ten minutes, trying to figure out what to wear on a first date with someone I’ve been sleeping with for the past year. Too dressy feels weird, but too casual might send the wrong message.
I settle on dark jeans and a soft sweater that Zeke always said brought out my eyes. Not because I’m trying to impress him, but because it makes me feel confident.
“You look cute,” Payton says from her bed, where she’s finally managed to sit up. “Nervous?”
“A little. Is that weird? Being nervous to go on a date with someone who has literally seen me at my worst?”
“No, it’s good. Means you’re taking it seriously and excited.”
I apply minimal makeup and leave my hair down, then check the time. 3:15. Perfect.
“Wish me luck,” I tell Payton.
“You don’t need it. Just remember your boundaries.”
Zeke: I’m outside.
The walk down feels different. This time it’s not sneaky or desperate, just... normal. Like I’m going to meet someone I’m genuinely excited to see.
Zeke’s waiting outside the building when I exit my dorm building. He’s wearing jeans and a navy shirt that fits him perfectly. His split lip looks better, and when he smiles at me, it reaches his eyes.
“Hey,” he says, not moving to hug or kiss me. Just standing there with his hands in his pockets.
“Hi.”
“You look so…cute.”
I lift my shoulder shyly. “Thank you. You look cute too.” I notice he’s not wearing cologne, just the clean scent of soap and laundry detergent. “Ready?”
“Yeah. There’s that sandwich place about a ten-minute walk from here. Let’s go.”
We start walking, and it feels like we never broke up. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.
“How’s Ava this morning?” I ask.
“Hungover but better. She wanted me to thank you again for last night. For being understanding, and she will probably apologize.”
I nod. “She’s hurting. I get it.”
He glances at me. “You don’t have to defend her. She was pretty harsh with you.”
“People say things when they’re in pain. It doesn’t mean you don’t matter to them.”
Zeke stops walking for a moment, studying my face. “How are you so... wise about this stuff?”
I laugh. “I’m not wise. I’m just tired of being angry all the time. I just want to let people be who they are.”
We start walking again, but I can feel his eyes on me.
We reach the sandwich shop, and he holds the door open for me. It’s small and busy, the kind of place with a chalkboard menu and mismatched chairs. We order at the counter and find a table by the window.
“So,” I say, settling into my chair. “First date conversation. What am I supposed to ask you?”
“I don’t know. What’s your favorite color?” He grins. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“Psychology professor, maybe. Or a therapist. Something where I can actually help people.” I take a sip of my water. “What about you? Still planning on the NHL?”
