The second after we order our food, I look at Dominic and poke out my lower lip. "Are you sure you're not mad?" I need to know for certain that he doesn't secretly hate me deep down.
"I was never mad," he admits. "I was just embarrassed."
"I'm sorry." I've said it at least fifty times today.
"It's fine. I'm over it." He waves his hand dismissively as if pushing the occurrence to the past. We make conversation for the rest of the meal, avoiding the topic of last night altogether. When it's time to pay, I take out my wallet and he looks at me.
"Are you sure you want to pay for this?" He looks at the array of food he bought.
"Yes, you took me on a date so it's my turn to take you." I get my card from my wallet and lightly tap it on the table.
"Oh so this is a date?" He leans in with a s
