Jackson stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing his reflection. He'd spent the last hour trying different outfits, each making him feel more like a teenager prepping for prom than a grown man getting ready for a date.
"Jesus, get it together," he muttered, running a hand through his hair for the umpteenth time. He'd settled on a navy button-down and dark jeans, casual but not sloppy. At least, he hoped not.
His phone buzzed on the dresser. A message from Olivia lit up the screen.
Olivia: I just got off work. Here's my address: 1423 Paradise Street, Apt 8B. I can't wait to see you!
Me: Can't wait either. I'll be there in 20. Hope you're ready for a wild night.
He hit send, then immediately regretted it. Too cheesy? Too forward? But it was too late now. He grabbed his keys and headed
