When her eyes met mine, she no longer looked sad. She looked—determined, maybe? "What happened, Matthews, is that I already let you break my heart once."

Then she stood up, adjusted her dress, and walked out of the room.

I didn't call her name.

I didn't stop her.

I didn't follow her.

I just sat there, in a dark room, feeling sorry for myself.

Because as much as I tried to convince myself over the last year or so, that she didn't care—or that she wouldn't care—in just a few words she proved me completely wrong.

She felt it too.

She felt everything I did.

TEN

-Past-

The date.

Start of summer, pre college

Logan: 7 days to go.

Amanda: Really, asshole? A countdown?

Logan: 6 days to go. I bet you can't wait to see me.

Amanda: I'm already regretting this.

Logan: 5 days to go. OMG! What am I going to wear?

Amanda: I thought I told you not to contact me for a week.

Logan: 4 days to go. Seriously though, what do you want to do?

Amanda: Not go on a date with you?

Logan: 3 days to go. I'm getting pretty fucking excited to see you.

Amanda: Shut up.

Logan: 2 days to go. Just thought I would remind you, in case you had forgotten.

Amanda: Who is this?

Logan: 1 day to go. I'll call you tomorrow.

Amanda: I'll be busy.

Logan: I'm calling you in 5 minutes. You better answer. You promised my 'nephew' a date with me.

Amanda: Fine!

Even though she asked me not to, I texted her every day, several times a day, for the week leading up to our date. She replied with smartass answers every time. If ever there was a sign that we would connect as well as we did, that should have been it.

"Hello?" she answered on the first ring. It had just hit eight in the morning, and even though it was summer, my body had gotten used to getting up at six for a morning run and training. I skipped the run. I had no training. I sat with my phone in my hand until it seemed like a decent hour to call.

"Hey, pretty girl," I replied. I tried to hide the nerves that had taken over from just hearing her voice. "What time should I pick you up?"

"Oh." She sounded surprised. "I thought you were just messing with me. I didn't know you were serious about taking me out."

I had no idea how she got to that conclusion. "Nope." I faked airiness in my tone. "Completely serious. So?"

"Um."

I waited.

And waited.

Finally, "I have to work. But I finish at five—if you want to pick me from there? But honestly, you don't have to. I mean—"

"Five? I'll be there."

Silence.

"Amanda?"

"Yeh?"

"I'm really looking forward to seeing you again." Truth.

***

I showed up to her work fifteen minutes late, just to prove that I hadn't been sitting around waiting to leave.

She sat on a bench looking down at her phone. She probably assumed I wouldn't show.

Valid.

She stood up and walked towards my car. She'd changed out of her work uniform and into tight fitting jeans and even tighter tank. Fuck. Her body was out of this fucking world.

"Quit the eye fuck, Matthews," she said, taking a seat and pulling on the belt.

She had fire. "You know what I like about you?"

"My tits?"

My eyes rose from her tits. "Huh?"

She laughed once. "Jesus, this isn't awkward at all."

I laughed with her, pulled away from the curb, and started driving to the restaurant.

I eyed her sideways. "Well, let's not do that. Make it awkward, I mean."

"Yeah? How are we not going to do that?"

I glanced at her quickly, smirking. "Well, I could pull the car over right now and we could just make out, so we don't have to worry about it later. Maybe you can let me cop a feel. Get to first base, you know?"

She laughed out loud.

I was thankful she found it funny, because that really could have gone either way.

"Okay, Romeo."

I laughed at her. Wait. "Huh? What do you mean 'okay'?"

"Pull over, let's get this awkwardness out of the way. I think you're right. I mean, what if you're a shit kisser? At least we'll know now, right? So let's go." She rubbed her hands together and rolled her shoulders.

I glanced over at her, trying to work out whether she was kidding.

She laughed. “Pull over already."

So I did.

Before the car had come to a stop, she was taking off her seatbelt and turning to face me.

I switched the car off and did the same.

And we sat there, staring at each other.

She licked her lips. My eyes focused on it. My palms began to sweat and for some reason, I was actually nervous. I put my hand to the side of her face, my fingers laced through her hair. I bought her face closer to mine and closed my eyes. I heard her breath catch. Our lips touched slightly, right before she...laughed.

Fucking laughed.

I swear at this point I thought she might actually be crazy. Legit, crazy. But then she looked at me with tears in her eyes from laughing so hard, and I couldn't help but do it, too. So there we were, laughing like idiots. Then I felt her hand on my leg and her mouth was mine and before I knew it we're kissing.

And not the first kiss type kissing, but kissing.

My hand went back up to the side of her face. I pushed my fingers through her hair to brought her closer to me.