Reese’s loud truck slowly came to a stop as he pulled up and parked in a spot right by his favorite fishing spot. He shut the engine off, feeling the truck go still and quiet before he hopped out of the truck to grab the poles and his tackle box, instructing you to just sit and relax for a moment while he prepared the rods.

This was your second date of the week, and probably your 10th date the past month. You’d been hanging out a lot together. He took you to dinner, fishing, boating, you guys kissed, he always complimented you and acted like a gentleman, but he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. You didn’t know if that meant it was too early, or maybe he thought this was casual?

Your thoughts were interrupted when he opened your door, a smile on his face as he held out his hand to help you out of the truck, his southern accent thick. “Come on, pretty lady. Fish ain’t gon’ catch themselves.”