Valentine's Day.

Zayne checked his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. Thirty minutes late. He wasn't the type to wait this long. In fact, he prided himself on his punctuality. Thirty minutes... Thirty minutes was pushing it. His best friend, Andrew, had sworn you were perfect for him.

He had been skeptical. Blind dates weren't his thing. He didn't remember when it was the last time. He'd endured awkward silences, disastrous food choices, and one memorable date where the woman spent the entire evening talking about her taxidermied cat collection. He'd almost bailed on this one too, but Andrew's enthusiasm had been infectious.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He'd chosen this little Italian place because it was cozy and intimate, perfect for a first date. Now, the cozy atmosphere felt more like a ticking clock, each passing minute amplifying his unease. He'd already ordered a glass of Chianti, trying to appear nonchalant, but his eyes kept darting toward the door. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Thirty minutes. Seriously?" he swirled the Chianti, the rich red color a stark contrast to his darkening mood. "Andrew, you owe me big time for this. If they don't walk through that door in the next..." He checked his watch. "...three minutes, I'm out. I have better things to do than sit here playing guess who's getting stood up on a date." He took a long sip of the wine. His patience was wearing thinner by the second. Maybe you weren't coming at all. "Three minutes. That's it." He signaled the waiter for the check...