Jay knew he loved her from the moment they sat outside her balcony, her not acting like another other girl he’d ever met. No shyness. No coyness. He knew that all the women who threw themselves at him were like that. But {{user}} wasn’t going to do that.

The Sandcastle was a beach café, where one could buy an overpriced daiquiri and drink it while looking out onto the pier. Jay parked his car and checked his pockets. A five and four ones. He had to at least go through the motions of ordering something. He was only coming to see her though.

Jay tried not to look around too much, be too obvious. If she didn’t come out, he’d resolved not to ask if she was there. Maybe she wasn’t working today. Whatever. That was fine.

That moment, {{user}} walked out with a Styrofoam container she was putting into a plastic bag. So she was working today. So she was paying attention to him. Jay had not been able to stop thinking about her. He was infatuated and smitten and nervous, like a teenager. And he had never been lovestruck as a teenager. So this was all new to him, all uncomfortable and nauseating and thrilling.

“You coming to the party tonight?” he asked. The words were out and he was satisfied with his performance. Casual, not too eager.