First Date (Chapter 1 Part 1)

The waiter showed me to the table, and I sat down. I felt excited, though more than a little nervous. My legs trembled a bit, tense as if trying to lift me off my seat. I took a deep breath and settled myself, looking around the restaurant and observing some of the other diners and staff to distract myself.

I was always early for things; it was a habit I’d had since school. Great for my professional life, but bad for pretty much every other element of it. All it did was leave me with time to overthink things and make myself anxious. Only twenty-three years into life, I felt like I had the constitution of a sixty-year-old stockbroker.

A few minutes passed, and after doing a slightly too-good job of distracting myself, I looked up to see a pair of blue eyes smiling down at me.

“Evan?” I said as I stood up quickly, wincing slightly as I heard my empty glass on the table topple over.

“Hi Rachel,” he replied with a smile.

“Ugh sorry, I’m so clumsy,” I said, turning red.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a reassuring laugh, as he offered his hand to me.

I was a little unsure what he was doing. Was he going for a handshake? Wouldn’t that be a bit too formal for a date? Almost instinctively, I found myself extending my hand towards him in return.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” he said, holding my hand and looking deep into my eyes.

The first thing that struck me was the heat of his hand. Were mine really that cold? Could his really be that warm? As he held on, I felt how strong and large his hand was compared to mine, and how secure mine felt with his around it. I felt a little whoosh in the pit of my stomach as I thought about it more. Then, realising it had been at least a five seconds since he spoke, I snapped myself out of my trance, and responded.

“It’s… lovely to meet you, too,” I said, as we held eye contact for a few more seconds, then sat down.

I was surprised how small I felt beside him. I’m five foot one, so not exactly a giant, but turns out six foot is pretty tall when the guy isn’t actually lying about it. He was wearing a blue shirt, and dark jeans, and it wasn’t hard to see that he had a good body underneath them. I started thinking about what else would be under them, and felt a rush of warmth between my legs, followed by a rush of warmth in my cheeks.

Embarrassed, I suddenly felt conscious that he’d of course be sizing me up in return, and felt myself blushing even more. Maybe I’m too small for him? What if he thinks I’m too… fragile? I’m not really a gym person, but I do lots of yoga… I should’ve worn a dress that shows off my figure more. Getting lost in my thoughts again, I better speak before he thinks I’m crazy.

“The menu here looks really good,” I said, tripping over my words.

“Oh it’s so great, I was here last week,” he said.

“Really, were you… on a date?” I asked. Why did I ask that? He’s gonna think I’m crazy.

“For a friend’s birthday, actually,” he replied. “This is my first date in a long while.”

“Mine too,” I lied. It was my first date ever. Well, assuming you don’t count making out at summer camps, or hooking up at college parties, as dates.

I’d never really given much thought to dating, in all honestly. I liked guys, and had a few hookups in college, but they were honestly more to check the ‘I’ve had sex’ box than an attempt to find a boyfriend. This was the first time I was really trying to find someone who might end up being *the* someone. And honestly, two minutes into this date, the only thing I could think was *fuck, maybe I’ve found him already*.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/rf3b5p/first_date_chapter_1_part_1