I’m going on a date. A real date. I’m not going to lie. I’m freaking out a little. I’m not sure why exactly.
Trenton isn’t a stranger. He’s a friend whom I’ve known for seven months now. Yet friend isn’t the best way to describe him. He’s more than a friend, but how much more, I’m not sure.
I have to give him credit. He’s been patient—like, really patient—especially over this past month. Since our steamy kiss on the dance floor a month ago, he has been a daily presence, but I’ve been hesitant to move our relationship to the next level.
I miss Jax, terribly. I miss everything about him. We continue to chat and text a few times a week, and we carry on our best-friend status, but it’s not always authentic. I can tell we are both trying to take our relationship back to when we were seventee
