THE ONE WHO NOTICED

SEVEN

I don't know what to do or say in this moment, so I just blurt out, "Thank you for the flowers. And what did you bring me to eat?"

"Burger and fries. Can't go wrong with that choice, in my opinion. Hope you like it."

It's a good burger. I didn't realize how hungry I was until now. "Thank you," I say with my mouth still half full. Real attractive.

"You're welcome." He's still watching me, and it's making me more nervous, so I just look at him with a blank expression, my face red. "You just gonna stand there?"

"Maybe. I like watching you eat." That smirk he does.

My face reddens. "Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Just watching me. You're making me more nervous."

He laughs. "Okay, okay. Well, let me get some smokes while I'm here. The Red Black Shorts."

He pays in correct change. No tip this time.

"So," he says, leaning against the counter. "You gonna be off tomorrow?"

Yeah, I think so. They haven't asked me to cover a shift tomorrow, so I'll be off."

Why did he have to ask me that? I'm already a nervous wreck.

"Well, since you're off, think I can take you out to eat? Breakfast, lunch, or dinner—whichever is fine with me, just as long as I get to hang out with you."

My heart drops into my stomach. He's asking me out. Like, on an actual date.

I just stare at him, frozen.

"You gonna answer me, or you just gonna keep looking at me like that?" He's smiling, but I can tell he's waiting.

"Umm, uhh, yeah. Whichever is fine." My voice comes out way too quiet. "You really know how to make a girl nervous."

"Yeah, well, I figured since you like avoiding certain things, I'd just ask you out in person so I can get a yes from you." That smirk is back. "Let's go with lunch. Maybe after, I can talk you into hanging out with me for dinner too.”

I can't form a coherent sentence or sound, so I just nod.

"Sounds good. I'll text you later." He grabs his smokes and walks to the door, then turns back. "And Kasin? Don't overthink it."

Yeah, right. Too late for that.

The rest of the shift drags. I catch myself looking at the flowers, thinking what the hell I've done—got myself into a date with someone who I think is actually into me.

When I get home, I go straight to a hot shower and then lay in bed staring at my phone. He doesn't text. Part of me panics, but part of me is relieved.

By the time I fall asleep, it's after midnight. My mind won't shut off.

Morning comes fast.

I wake up to my phone going off. I check it. It's from him.

Good morning beautiful. We still good for today? I can pick you up at 1, or would you prefer to meet me somewhere?

My stomach is in knots. I'm really gonna do this.

I stare at the two options like they're both traps.

If I let him pick me up, he'll see where I live. My run-down apartment building. The mess inside. He'll see how I actually live, and maybe he'll change his mind about all this.

But if I meet him somewhere, it looks like I don't trust him. Like I'm keeping him at a distance. Which I am, but still.

I type and delete about five different responses.

Pick me up is fine—delete.

I can meet you—delete.

Whatever works for you—delete.

My phone buzzes again.

You're overthinking again, aren't you?

Damn him for already knowing me like that.

Yes, overthinking is something I happen to be exceptional at.

Well, how about I just come get you and you just send me your address.

I panic but cave and send him my address.

423 High St, Apt 20. Just let me know when you're here and I'll come down.

That wasn't so hard, was it?

It was, actually. But if you keep trying something with me, I guess you'll just have to get used to it.

After I hit send, I regret it immediately. I'm not sure where that came from.

The three dots appear.

There she is. I was wondering when you'd show me a little bit of that fire. I like it. See you at 1, beautiful.

My face heats up. He likes it?

I look at the time. 10:45. I have just over two hours.

I jump out of bed and immediately start panicking.

What am I supposed to wear?

Where are we even going?

What are we gonna talk about?

How am I supposed to act? Do I just be myself? What if myself isn't good enough?

I tear through my closet, throwing clothes on the bed. Too casual. Too dressy. Too revealing.

Finally, I settle on my favorite thin red sweater with shorts and my boots. It's casual but still looks like I tried. I hope.

I take longer than usual in the bathroom, actually doing my hair—leaving it down with a headband. And I put on eyeliner and mascara. Just the basics, but more than I usually do.

By the time I'm done, it's 12:50, and my heart is racing.

My phone buzzes.

I'm here.

Oh god. This is really happening.

I grab my bag, check myself in the mirror one more time, and immediately regret everything about how I look. But it's too late now.

I head downstairs, my legs feeling like jelly with each step.

When I push through the front door, I see his Jeep parked right out front. And he's leaning against it, looking at his phone.

When he sees me, he straightens up, and his face lights up.

And f**k, he looks good. Black jeans that fit him just right, a dark gray button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows showing off his forearms, and black biker boots that give him that bad boy edge. His hair is styled but still has that messy, just-ran-my-hands-through-it look. Rugged but classy. The kind of sexy thats making my brain stop working.

"Hey, gorgeous. Damn, you're looking good."

I want to say something smooth, something normal, but all that comes out is, "Hi."

He walks over and opens the passenger door for me. "Come on, before you change your mind on me."

My face is on fire as I climb in.

Once he's in the driver's seat, he glances over at me. "You nervous?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Little bit. But it's cute." That smirk again. "Don't worry, I don't bite. Unless you ask."

My face somehow gets even redder, and he laughs as he starts driving.

"So that little bit of fire you showed me earlier over text," he says, keeping his eyes on the road. "How much more of that are you hiding from me?"

I look down at my hands. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't. 'You'll just have to get used to it,'" he quotes back at me. "I liked that. Made me wonder what else you're keeping locked up in there."

"I'm not—I don't know. I'm not usually like that."

"Maybe you should be." He glances over at me. "I like when you're real with me, Kasin. Even when you're being a smartass."

We pull up to this little diner that looks like it's been here forever. It's tucked away off the main road, and when we walk in, there's only a handful of people inside. Quiet. Simple. Perfect.

We slide into a booth in the back, and I'm grateful for the privacy.

"So," he says, leaning back and looking at me. "Why are you so nervous? You think I'm gonna judge you or something?"

"I don't know. Maybe." I fidget with my napkin. "I'm just... not good at this."

"At what? Eating lunch?" That smirk.

"At this. Dating. Talking to people. Being normal."

"Who said you gotta be normal?" He reaches across the table and gently pulls the napkin out of my hands before I shred it completely. "Look, I'm not rushing anything here. We're just hanging out, getting to know each other. No pressure. Just relax and enjoy yourself, alright?"

I meet his eyes, and there's something so genuine in them that I feel myself breathe a little easier.

"Okay," I say quietly.

"Good. Now, what do you wanna eat?"

We order—he gets a burger, I get a sandwich—and at first, the conversation stays light. He asks me about Magz, and I actually find myself laughing when I tell him about the time she ate an entire bag of treats and then threw up on my bed.

"She sounds like a menace," he says, grinning.

"She is. But she's my menace."

"I still wanna meet her, you know."

The thought of him coming to my place doesn't feel as terrifying as it did this morning. "Maybe."

"I'll take that as progress."

As we eat, the nervousness starts to fade. He's easy to talk to when I let myself relax. He tells me about working on his Jeep, how he's been fixing it up for years. How he likes working with his hands, staying busy.

"You ever work on cars?" he asks.

"God, no. I can barely change a tire."

"I could teach you sometime."

"You just wanna get me under a car so you can laugh at me."

"Maybe." That smirk. "Or maybe I just want an excuse to spend more time with you."

My face heats up again, and he notices. "You gonna blush every time I say something nice to you?"

"Probably."

"Good. I like it." He leans forward a little. "Makes me wonder what else I could say to get that reaction out of you."

My face somehow gets even redder, and he grins like he just won something.

"There it is."

"You're impossible."

"And you're cute when you're flustered."

By the time we finish eating, I realize I've been smiling more in the last hour than I have in months.

"So," he says as we're leaving the diner. "I was thinking..."

"Oh no."

"What? You don't even know what I'm gonna say."

"Nothing good starts with 'I was thinking.'"

He laughs. "Fair. But hear me out. There's a movie playing at 5. We could go catch that, grab dinner after. Unless you're sick of me already."

I should say no. I should tell him I need to go home. But I don't want to.

"What movie?"

That smirk is back. "Does it matter?"

"I guess not."

"So is that a yes?"

I nod, and his whole face lights up.

"Alright then. Let's go kill some time before the movie."

You ever play pool?" he asks as we're driving.

"Not in forever. I'm terrible at it."

"Perfect. I can teach you."

He takes me to this dive bar that has a pool table in the back. It's the kind of place that smells like cigarettes and stale beer, and I feel instantly more comfortable than I did at the diner.

We grab a couple of beers and claim the table.

"Alright, show me what you got," he says, handing me a cue.

I line up a shot and completely miss. The cue ball doesn't even come close to hitting anything.

He's trying not to laugh. "That was... something."

"I told you I was terrible."

"Come here." He moves behind me, his body close to mine as he adjusts my stance. "You're holding it too tight. Relax."

His hands guide mine, and I can barely focus on the pool table with him this close.

"Now try," he says, his voice low near my ear.

I take the shot, and this time I actually hit a ball. It doesn't go in, but it's progress.

"See? You just needed the right teacher."

We play for a while—well, he plays, I mostly just watch him and pretend I know what I'm doing. But I'm laughing more than I have in months, and when he makes a ridiculous shot just to show off, I actually throw a balled-up napkin at him.

"Oh, so that's how it is?" He grins.

"Maybe."

By the time we leave for the movie, I've had two beers and I'm feeling loose and happy in a way I forgot was possible.

---

The movie is some action thing with explosions and car chases. I couldn't tell you the plot if my life depended on it because I'm too aware of him next to me. His arm on the armrest between us. The way he glances over at me every so often like he's checking if I'm having a good time.

Halfway through, his hand finds mine, and my heart does that stupid flutter thing again.

When the movie ends and we're walking back to his Jeep, I realize I don't want the night to end.

But it does.

He drives me home, and when we pull up outside my building, I don't know what to do. Do I invite him up? Do I just say goodnight?

"I had a really good time," I say, because that feels safe.

"Me too." He's looking at me in that way that makes my brain stop working.

For a second, I think he's going to kiss me. He leans in slightly, his eyes dropping to my lips, and my breath catches.

But then he stops, a small smile playing at his mouth. "Goodnight, Kasin."

"Goodnight."

I get out of the Jeep feeling both disappointed and relieved. As I'm walking to my door, I glance back, and he's still there, watching me. Making sure I get inside safe.

When I finally close my apartment door behind me, I lean against it and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

My phone buzzes.

Had an amazing time with you today. Can't wait to do it again.

I smile like an i***t.

Me too.

Get some sleep, beautiful. I'll text you tomorrow.

And for the first time in a long time, I go to bed actually looking forward to tomorrow.