Best Friends Don't Kiss

No. No, that can’t be it. Please. I just need to keep looking.

Another blond head shines in the light from above a table, and my stomach flips over on itself with anxious excitement. I get up on my toes to take a better look.

Shit. Never mind. Unless Brian has a wife and two kids, I highly doubt that’s him.

Maybe I should just text him. See where he is that way. I unlock my phone and open my messages, but before I can start another thread with Brian’s number, a blue dot pops up next to Luke’s name.Luke: You want to grab some dinner tonight? I just got back from LA and can be changed in five minutes.Me: I can’t. I’m on a date. Almost.Luke: Oh shit, that’s right. I forgot that was tonight. Wait, what do you mean, almost?Me: Well, I’m at the restaurant, but I’m having a hard time locating my date.Luke: WTF? He’s not there???Me: No, he’s here. I’m pretty sure anyway. I’m just kind of having a hard time remembering what he looks like.Luke: What? LOL. You can’t remember what your date looks like, Ace?Me: Shut up. I have a general sense, but there are a lot of people here! It’s harder than you think. I was just about to text him, but I’m not sure I want him to know I’m having this hard of a time if it turns out he’s, like, right next to me or something.Luke: Just look up his profile.Me: I tried, but I’m not getting enough data service in here. Do you think…maybe you could sign in to my account and look him up for me?Luke: Jesus.Me: Does that mean yes?Luke: Fine. Hold please.Luke: Okay, I’m in.Me: WHAT? HOW? I didn’t tell you my sign-in info yet.Luke: LOL Ava, I’ve known you for nearly half of my life at this point. I guessed your sign-in info. Btw, you need a stronger password.Me: LUKELuke: Ok, Boat-Lover Brian’s characteristics… Ruggedly douchey. Pompously strong jaw. The nose of a rhino.Me: You’re ridiculous. Just send me a picture!It takes a minute, but finally, Luke sends the picture of Brian through so I can scrutinize it.

His hair is far darker than I thought, and his slightly scruffy jaw proves he’s not exactly clean-shaven, but he’s still good-looking in a boy-next-door kind of way. I’m not sure how it should make me feel that he’s not at all what I thought he looked like, but I decide not to let it bother me.

Thankfully, when I give the room another once-over, I spot the real Brian Grove in the far back corner, sitting at a table with a white cloth and tealight candles flickering in the center.

He smiles and rises from his chair as I make my way toward him, evidently recognizing me immediately.

Yikes.

“Ava, right?” he asks, and I nod.

“You must be Brian.”

“I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His smile grows, and when he leans a little too close to my face, my heart starts to pound erratically.

Holy shit, what is he doing?

Is he trying to kiss me? Before we’ve even eaten?!

My instincts make me jump away from him, and his eyes go wide as he glances between my face and his hand that is now resting on the top of my chair, which he has kindly pulled out for me.

Oh Lawd, Ava. You’re a lunatic.

“Uh…thank you, kind sir.” Kind sir? What the hell was that? I awkwardly clear my throat and try to distract him from my weirdness by abruptly taking his free hand into mine and shaking it like I’m doing those rope things at the gym.

Hell’s bells, the goal isn’t to break his freaking fingers!

I drop his hand like it’s a literal hot potato and try to smooth it over by saying, “It’s very nice to meet you.”

He’s nice enough to smile like my bumbling is cute rather than embarrassing as all hell, but man, I’m not exactly batting a thousand here.

My heart flutters in my chest like a hummingbird as I try to get myself together. I feel light-headed and maybe even a little bit dizzy and beyond desperate to reverse all of it by redeeming myself.

Unfortunately, the redemption and overcompensation wires get crossed in my head, and the next thing I know, I’m curling my body downward and offering him a regal curtsy. Yes, a curtsy. Like, I’ve just been introduced to Prince William and the Queen of England.

FML.

Brian blinks a few times, his ability to ignore my mental breakdown weakening by the moment.

With nothing else to do, I fall into my chair gracelessly. As much as it would make things easier, I guess it’s still a good thing there’s no bed of spikes on the surface of it.

Brian gathers himself and sits back down in the seat across from mine, and I take a deep breath to try to reset myself.