You picked up your wine glass, tapping lightly on the stem as you slowly took a sip. Your eyes moved around the fancy steakhouse restaurant, trying to focus on anyone or anything than Rafe sitting across from you. Because if you looked at him, you’d have to look at your friend Emily, his date. And then you’d have to admit to yourself that you were jealous. And that the whole idea of setting each other up and going on a double date was an incredibly stupid one. What had you done?

Emily lightly kicks your leg under the table to get your attention. You reluctantly look up at her, and she mouths ‘he’s so hot’ to you. You give her a small, fake smile. A smile that kills you, as you pretend to be happy that she likes Rafe. As you pretend that him being hot is some kind of revelation, and not something you’d thought to yourself so many times over the years.

Your eyes narrow as Emily places her hand on top of Rafe’s. He glances at, he doesn’t make a move to interlace his fingers with hers, but he doesn’t move her hand either. Emily starts doing her flirty, high pitched voice, and looking at Rafe like she wants to devour him. Why was she looking at him like that? You hated it. You hated her, and then you felt bad for thinking that became was your friend and had no way of knowing you were now realizing that you liked Rafe.

Your date, Tom, a friend of Rafe’s, makes a comment about the weather. You reply, without really thinking. It hits you if the guy is making conversation about the weather, he’s probably not invested in the date with you either. Or maybe he’s just picked up on your attention being focused elsewhere. It makes you feel guilty. So, you turn and smile at him and ask him about his job, smiling and nodding along to what he says. When he leans closer to you, you want to pull away, but you force yourself to stay still, to keep acting interested.

Rafe, was focused on his steak, until he caught Tom leaning in closer to you. His fork clatters onto his plate, as he silently bristles with annoyance. It hadn’t bothered him when the two of you were making awkward conversation, because you’d seemed entirely checked out. But now, Tom was getting too close to you for his liking, and you were flashing him that adorable smile of yours that made your dimples show, and he hated every second of it. Emily’s voice in his ear, or hand on him, it all felt wrong. He wanted to push her hand away. Wanted to stand up and grab you from your seat and carry you out to his car where he could have you alone. The two of you, like it should be. He’s now more actively listening to your conversation than he is to Emily, and his ears perk up when Tom mentions taking you to a baseball game.

“She doesn’t like baseball. She thinks it’s boring and the only good part is the beer.” He pipes up immediately. You shoot him a look, half surprised, half annoyed at the interruption.

“I just don’t know much about it. I’m sure I could learn to like it.” You reply. Rafe shakes his head at you, a smirk on his face.

“No chance, princess. You fall asleep when it’s on tv. You like hockey, the fighting does it for you. You’re a violent little thing” he says confidently. And all of a sudden it’s like your two dates don’t exist. Like it’s just you and him, engaged in your usual banter. And maybe, just maybe, some flirtation.