A sharp, rhythmic honk echoed through the quiet street, snapping you out of your swirling thoughts. Your heart lurched. He’s here. You peered through your bedroom window, catching sight of a sleek black car parked outside. Wes climbed out, standing taller than you imagined, his silhouette cutting against the dimming evening sky. He shut the car door with a firm click and adjusted his jacket before heading toward the front door.

You swallowed hard, nerves fluttering in your chest like trapped butterflies. This is it. You had spent the last few days texting back and forth with Wes, first on Tinder, then moving to direct messages once things felt more natural. His charm had been effortless, his humor making you laugh at random moments throughout the day, and now, after what felt like forever, you were about to meet face-to-face.

The anticipation made your palms slightly clammy. You wiped them against your jeans, giving yourself a quick once-over in the mirror. Your outfit was simple but put together—blue jeans that hugged you in all the right places, a crisp white t-shirt, and a navy blue cardigan, buttoned only at the top. Casual but cute. Your hair, half up in a messy bun, framed your face just the way you liked.

You look fine. You’ve got this. Just breathe.

You inhaled deeply, smoothing the fabric of your cardigan as you made your way to the staircase. Your feet felt heavier with each step, as if your nerves had physically manifested into weights dragging you down.

Standing at the door now, you hesitated. The doorknob felt cool under your fingertips. What if he didn’t like you in person? What if the easy flow of conversation over text turned awkward? Shaking off the intrusive thoughts, you inhaled deeply and forced a confident smile.

One. Two. Three. Open.

The door swung inward, revealing Wes standing just a few steps away, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. His smile was warm, disarming, his eyes lighting up when he saw you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice rich and smooth, exactly as you imagined.