The phone rang and her breath caught when she saw who it was. She pressed her hand to her chest, forced her synapses to shut up for a second, then pressed Talk. “Hey, are we still on for tomorrow?”
He cleared his throat, a soft rumble that made her heart stutter. “There’s been a change of plans.”
What? Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. “What’s up?”
“Well,” he paused.
Did that pause mean something? Was he wishing he never agreed to get their friends to go out dancing? Was he trying to get out of this without hurting her feelings?
“It’s just going to be us. Is that okay?”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “Oh, yeah. That’s cool.”
He cleared his throat again. “So I’ll pick you up around 7?”
“Great, see you then.”
Does that mean it’s a date? They’d known each other for years and never had a date, but she’d liked him that whole time. Did he think it was a date? How was she going to get through the next 24 hours without knowing?
One week later, on their second date (or their first official date since the week before was really a non-date:
Six years and counting…