Biker's Virgin

"It doesn't matter. What's important is you're going to like her."

"Whatever you say," I said, looking into the mirror and fixing my collar. I had been game for this blind date, but now that tonight was the night and Tiff was still being cagey, I wasn't really feeling it as much. She was so confident that I felt it had to go left somehow.

"Roll your sleeves up. Girls like forearms," she said, standing and walking out of the room. She had come over specifically to help me prep for the date like I was a freshman girl who had been invited to my first prom. All I had needed was something to identify this girl she had set me up with and she could have told me that over text, like a normal person. We were pretty close, but she was way more invested in this date than she should have been.

I grabbed my wallet, slid some shoes on, and came out of the room. Tiff was waiting in the kitchen.

"So?" I said expectantly.

"You look great. Have fun," she said brightly, turning and heading for the front door.

"Wait, wait, wait. How the hell am I supposed to know who she is?"

"Just get a good table and wait. I already told her how to find you. She'll come to you," she said.

For the second time in maybe ten minutes, I regretted ever agreeing to this. If tonight was a disaster, I was never letting her do this for me again. I wasn't desperate enough for this. I knew that it wasn't going to be a prank or whatever where the chick was actually an escort, but Tiff was being too smug about this. I wasn't looking for a fucking wife tonight, just someone to eat with and maybe fuck later if I could.

"Be a gentleman, don't make her pay, and don't make me look bad," she said as she walked to her car.

"You set the bar pretty high, Tiff. I better not be disappointed," I threatened lightly. She smirked and slid into her car, driving away first. At least she hadn't chosen the restaurant. I wasn't cheap, but she was a girl – she didn't pay for dates anyway, what would it matter to her. Tiff's friend had better like Italian. If she was one of those girls who didn't eat carbs or wouldn't eat real food in front of guys, then I wouldn't see her again anyway.

I had called to make reservations the day before. The table was near a window, but still inside. I sat so I was facing the entrance. I didn't know what this girl looked like, but since she was supposed to know, I'd just make myself easy for her to spot. The date was for seven thirty, and it was seven twenty-three. I ordered a beer and waited.

Seven thirty ticked by and my beer was three-quarter ways done. Tiff hadn't given me this girl's number so I had no way to contact her and tell her where I was in case she had gotten here and missed me somehow. I hadn't really seen anyone who I thought would be my date – there were a lot of couples and bigger groups, but I hadn't seen a woman walking in alone.

I thought about calling Tiff to make sure this girl was showing up, but didn't. No, the stakes weren't that fucking high. It wouldn't matter if she didn't end up showing. I had nothing riding on this. I wasn't even that hungry. If she wasn't here by the time I finished my beer, I'd just go home.

A blonde in a blue-green dress caught my eye as she walked in. I didn't know who my date even was, so it didn't matter that I was checking her out. The first thing I noticed was she was alone. The next thing was she was fucking stunning. From across the room, under the dim lights scattered across the ceiling, she was beautiful. Her hair was shiny and long, the curls tumbling over her shoulders and chest.

That color was good on her, I thought absently. She was scanning the crowd of patrons, looking for someone. She glanced past me, and I would have choked if I was taking a drink of my beer. It had to be a good twenty feet between us but I knew that face anywhere. Softly defined cheekbones and a delicate, feminine face. Bright, round green eyes and pink, pert lips.

Veronica Kanter.

I bolted to my feet. Confusion, then this fierce drive to go to her overcame me. It was Veronica, here, alone. I started towards her, weaving around the tables to where she stood, still scanning the tables. Yup, it was definitely her. Right height, right shape, right face. Why the hell was she here? No, wait a minute, what the hell was I doing?

I watched her as she finally noticed me. We locked eyes, and her lips parted. She stood still as I walked up to her. It was too late to act like I hadn't seen her now. I didn't want to do that, anyway. I wanted to talk to her, but it had been a year and I was here because I was supposed to be on a date with another woman. I hadn't thought about this moment that much, but I hated that I had nothing to say to her. This was Veronica, she wasn't a stranger.

"Roman," she said first as I approached.

"Ronnie. Hey," I said.

"Hi," she said, smiling a little. That was good. Smiles were always good.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I could ask you the same thing. I didn't know you were back in town."

"Hasn't been that long, just about a week," I said. "You look great," I added honestly. She really did. Now that I was close enough to get a good look at her, she looked even better. She looked like she was here for a date.

"Thanks. Likewise." A couple awkward seconds of silence passed.

"Are you here with someone?" I asked. She had walked in alone, but that didn't mean the answer to that question was no. Even though I sort of hoped that it was.

"Actually, I am," she said. Fuck, of course she was. Tiff had said she was with someone. They were here on a date. "It's kind of a funny story."

"What happened?"

"I let Tiffany set me up on a blind date," she said, looking down like she didn't really want to tell me. All I had heard was the words “blind date.”