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“If you’re so over your ex then prove it,” she says with a smirk, her brow quirking up in challenge.
She doesn’t think you can do it.
The shifting eyes and covered smiles from the rest of the group make you realise none of them do. Your eyes stop on each of your friends, your arms folded in front of your body. Sighing, you shake your head. “What is this, an intervention?”
It’s only been a couple of months since you broke it off with your boyfriend of several years, isn’t it okay to let yourself breathe before moving onto the next?
Taking a sip of your fast-melting caramel shake, you bite the straw as you let your attention drift to the other side of the diner. It’s 50’s themed. Baby blue chairs line the walls, chequered floors painting the area between as the jukebox spits out Elvis, Doris Day and Bobby Darin. The waitresses, all decked out in matching baby blue circle shirts and caps, dash back and forth, attending to the bustling crowd. Inside they wear flats while the carhops outside glide across the car park in roller skates.
The vibe would be top tier if it wasn’t for the fact that all the eyes at the table were on you. Taking another sip you shrug your shoulders. “Did I miss something?”
“Nothing important,” one of them says, rolling her eyes and shoving her face with your fries.
“Come on, you need to get back out there.”
“I’ll get back out there when I’m ready,” you say, wrestling your fries back from your greedy friend. “I don’t need a man right now. All I need is a goddamn shake and these bloody fries.”
“You lost your game.”
“Yeah, you used to be cool.”
“Cool?” You laugh, chowing down on what have quickly become community fries. “When was I cool?”
“She’s right,” the fry thief speaks up. “You were fearless. Stunning and brave. You could have had anyone you wanted.”
“I still can,” you say, with a frown. Why are they ganging up on you today? “I can get anyone I want.”
“Prove it.”
Rolling your eyes you turn your attention back to your shake. There’s a small puddle of ice cream pooling around the bottom of the glass as the barely touched drink wilts under your scrutiny. The group starts to chant ‘prove it’ over and over, attracting attention from the other guests.
“Enough!” The word is low but commanding as heat spreads across your cheeks. “I don’t need to prove anything. I could get any guy that walks into this place. Just drop it.”
They start to chant again and you let out an annoyed growl as you kick them under the table. After a bout of carefree laughter, they whisper the chant once more, prompting another death glare.
“If you’re still the fearless seductress we all know and love then it should be easy to get a kiss from the next guy that walks in, right?” The quirk of your friend's brow is back and you wish you could slap it off her. She grins as if she knows what you’re thinking. Leaning in close, she whispers, “I double dog dare you.”
“Really?” Rolling your eyes you look over your shoulder at the door but don’t see anyone standing outside. “Fine. But you’re paying for my meal for the inconvenience.”
Dragging yourself up from the cushioned booth you take one last look at your fries, now being devoured by the ravenous group of giggling girls you call your friends before walking towards the door. Hopefully someone comes in soon. Hopefully it’s not someone on a date.
Each step brings you closer to the door, which had been practically revolving mere minutes ago but now sits lifeless and static. At this point you don’t care who walks in as long as they get here before you reach the lackluster frame of the glass door. Standing next to the entrance waiting for someone to walk in might not be the best look. Seeing someone waiting inside as you walk up, someone who just happens to be trying to kiss you? Yeah, that’s not going to work.
Shit.
Halfway towards the door, Dean Martin singing about pizza pie overhead, you take a peek behind you. There’s no escaping it; they’re all turned towards you, keen eyes intent on your journey.
The beat of your heart echoes inside your brain as the other guests fade away, each step prolonged as if you’re trekking through wet cement. As soon as the thought of just how exactly you’re meant to get the next person who walks in the door to kiss you flits through your mind, you draw a blank. As if the hamster wheel that is your brain decided to pack it in for the night, the thoughts won’t come. A distant memory of your childhood, an argument you had with your ex and that time you got caught cheating on a test all flood your brain instead. Useless memories that provide nothing.
Taking another look over your shoulder your friends all seem to perk up, pointing towards the door. This is it.
A silhouette appears a few feet before you. Right now it’s alone. Most likely male by the height. Unbeknownst to him, you’re walking toward one another. You catch sight of the book he’s holding. He’s definitely alone.
Taking another step, your eyes widen. His hand is on the door; he’s right outside, and he’s exquisite. Every inch of his tall frame has been crafted to perfection. He reaches out and opens the door, letting in a soft breeze which tassels his brown hair which shimmers with auburn highlights under the diner’s bright lights. He’s wearing thin round-rimmed glasses as if he’s trying to hide his face but nothing can hide those polished features.
He starts to look around and you decide it’s now or never. You can’t back down from a double dog dare. It’s not in your nature.
“Baby!” You raise your voice just enough to let him know you’re talking to him and skip the last few steps between you and the breathtaking stranger. “I thought you’d never get here.”
His eyes widen for a moment before he recovers himself as you cross into his space. Jumping, you wrap your arms around his neck and he reflexively cradles you, pulling you up closer to his face. Why did he have to be so tall?
Without pause you brush your lips against his, ignoring the heat that spreads out across your face like a forest fire. Just as you’re about to pull back his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer into the kiss. His scent envelopes you, that manly musk smell that commands attention and demands respect, making you desperate for more. The kiss is frantic and raw, all teeth and tongue, sending trails of warmth across your skin before leaving you gasping for air. Sucking on his bottom lip you pull back, a look of pure arousal flashes across his face for a moment before he composes himself.
“Wow,” you mutter before remembering where you are. You push against his chest and clear your throat.
“Is this a typical greeting for you?”
“I–I thought you were someone else,” you stutter, pulling away in an attempt to place some distance between you.
“Oh?” He rubs the back of his neck, red ears peeking out from behind his soft locks. He raises a brow, trying to hide a smile as your table starts to giggle. “Does someone else in this town look like me?”
No one in the history of mankind looks like the piece of art standing before you. “Yeah, something like that.”
“I can’t wait to meet him,” he says as he walks past you further into the diner. He turns back with a wide grin and says, “Just my luck that I got here before he did. Why don’t we wait for him together?”