Bring Down the Stars

I smiled. “How about, First Date, part two?”

He turned his grin all the way up to eleven. “That works.”

God, he really is beautiful. And more sensitive than he lets on.

I waited for him to prove that in person and talk to me like he said he wanted to in his texts. Instead, a short silence fell. I glanced around the café, with wood furnishings and caramel lighting. Under the table, my foot tapped the backpack of anthro texts I’d brought just in case.

“I like this coffee shop,” I said, finally. “Just don’t tell my boss at the Panache.”

Connor made an X over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

The silence threatened again, and we broke it at the same time.

“Connor, I—”

“I wanted to—”

The tension cracked a little, but there was a tightness in my stomach instead of butterflies.

“Go ahead,” I said.

“No, ladies first.”

I wrapped both hands around my mug. “Okay, well… I read our text exchange on the way over here a dozen times. What you wrote…about Mark being blind?” I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “After what happened…my sense of self really took a hit, you know? I thought I was the blind one for missing the signs, so what you said…it was really nice to hear.”

“I’m glad,” Connor said. He shifted in his chair, leaning a little over our table. “I’ll be honest too; I don’t always know what to say in the moment. You know how you can think of the perfect clap-back at someone ten minutes after you needed it?”

“I totally do.”

“I’m like that when it comes to finding the right things to say when someone—a girl like you, for instance—needs to hear them.”

“A girl like me?”

He nodded. “You’re different than anyone I’ve ever gone out with, Autumn. But in a good way.”

In a good way. Not exactly poetry, but then his voice softened as did his gaze as his eyes held mine, unwavering.

“And I want you to know that what your ex did…he was an idiot. I don’t want you to feel like you’re going to get screwed over again. Not with me. Whatever pain he left you with, I don’t want to add to it.”

That tenseness in my stomach loosened, and I let out a sigh.

“Thank you for saying that,” I said softly. “I’d begun to think it was too soon to be dating again. Maybe it still is?”

Connor shook his head. “I hope not. What you said about my sports bar idea…that meant a lot to me. More than you can know.”

“I’m so glad, Connor. And I know this is only our first date, but I think it’ll be better for both of us if we take things slowly.”

“Whatever you want,” he said. “I’m just glad to be sitting here right now.”

My cheeks warmed. “Me too.”

The soft moments piled and that zingy feeling filled the space between us. It intensified, building a thickness in the air, until Connor laughed and raked a hand through his hair.

“Okay, I can’t take it anymore.” He reached across the small table to cup my cheek. “We can go as slow as you want, Autumn, but if I don’t kiss you right now, I’m going to hate myself in the morning.”

I was already leaning in, as if the emerald prisms of his eyes were tractor beams, drawing me to him—to his kiss and everything that came after.

A pleasant shiver slid over my skin at the first touch of his lips, and then he did it again. A brush of his mouth over mine. I was infused with his scent, the nearness of him, his warmth. He pressed in softly and then more deeply. His tongue swept into my mouth and the shiver slipped down my spine at the pure expertise of his kiss.