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“You’re early.” You said, opening the door wider and waving him in once you realized it was Hangman (a story you were hoping to pry out of him on your date tonight) standing across the threshold. “I’m almost done, I promise. I’m so sorry.”
“No need to apologize, sugar.” Something about the careless way he slung around terms of endearment like that heated your cheeks.
Jake stepped in with that same easy grin he was wearing when he’d asked you out. You look good, but I think you’d look even better sitting across from me at dinner tonight. Cocky, arrogant. A toothpick rolling back and forth between his teeth. Not your type at all, but it had been so long since you last dated someone.
So when the blond in a military uniform slid into the booth across from you this afternoon at lunch you agreed. Without a single care for all the alarm bells ringing and desperate reminders from your subconscious that all men sucked.
And now you were standing in front of him with a half-zipped dress, half done hair, and nerves that made your hands shake so badly it was hard to finish anything at all. “Give me 5 minutes?”
Jake nodded, then, as though remembering why he’d gotten here so early to begin with, he moved his hand from behind his back and presented a small bouquet of flowers to you. Simple and sweet. “These are you you, darlin’.”
The accent brought you back to reality. Tied you down to earth and kept you from tearing up. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”
“I’m a gentleman, mostly,” Jake said, “so tell me where I can find a vase and I’ll get this set up. You go get ready.”
“Under the sink.” You waved your hand off in the general direction of the kitchen eyes still a bit too wide in shock. Someone had given you flowers. A complete stranger had given you flowers.
The stranger made towards where you vaguely gestured to but came halting to a stop shortly after. “Problem, doll?” He asked, turning back towards you with slight concern. Warranted concern, really, seeing that the noise that just escaped you made you sound like you’d been stabbed in the side.
“I’m sorry-”
“You need to stop apologizing.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” You ignored the look he shot you. “I- just… can you take your shoes off? Please?”
An easy smile crossed onto his face. More human than those prideful grins his flirting game so heavily relied on before. “Yes, I can do that.” Jake laughed, but it wasn’t rude or condescending. A kind-hearted, ‘I am so glad that’s all the problem was’ kind of laugh. “Go get ready so I can make everyone in that restaurant jealous that I’m takin’ the most beautiful lady out on a date.”
There wasn’t much arguing with that. You’d tried to come up with something witty to say to him as you finished getting ready, but every time you thought of what Jake had said to you your heart would beat a little faster and your head would spin. It was pointless. You could hardly remember your name when you looked his square in the face. If you were to actually stare into those green eyes of his you’d surely melt into the floor. Exactly what happened when you finally emerged from your room, shoes in hand, and let him at the front door.
Jake had been lingering in the foyer staring at all the pictures on your wall and the decorations that comprised who you wanted the world to see you as. A bit to honestly now that your eyes followed his to the goofy selfies or the ‘boofa deez nut’ candle you’d gotten as a gag gift and proudly displayed as a middle finger to the friend that had gotten it for you. The embarrassment should have killed you, but instead it was Jake’s eyes flicking up to meet yours that did you in.
You stumbled slightly. In your attempt to cover the movement to make it seem like you were bending over to put your shoes on, you’d stumbled more. Jake moved forward almost unconsciously to steady you, let out a low whistle and said, “You clean up nice.”
“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’ve seen me looking like half a disaster.”
“If that’s half a disaster, then you truly do put the ‘hot’ in ‘hot mess’, sugar.” Jake laughed and opened the door for you. He held it open, closed it behind you, and waited as you locked it. Then walked with you to the car to open the door for you there as well.
You thanked him, short and polite and completely caught off guard. Everything he said in that short walk from your front door to his car completely escaped you. Something about how you made a casual dress look like the most elegant outfit on earth. Just another charismatic comment to deepen the warm pool in your stomach. As though there weren’t enough butterflies flapping around in there already.
“You can pick the music.” Jake nodded toward the radio.
“I like classic rock,” you said. “It’s my favorite, actually.”
Jake grinned. “After my own heart. See, I knew there was somethin’ about you.” He turned slightly to put his arm around the passenger seat as he reversed and you caught a whiff of his cologne. Subtle. Yet entirely welcomed, up until he winked at you.
Maybe this was all a game to him. Jake seemed like the type to charm a girl and leave her heartbroken. The prying eyes at the counter back at the diner had almost confirmed that for you. Whispers and nudging that you had wished you’d seen before you agreed to go out with him. This whole evening could very well be some big bet for the hot shots in the Navy to cash out on. All at your expense.
“So.” Jake cleared his throat. “You from around here?”
Once again, an awkward reminder that the two of you knew nothing about one another besides your names and addresses. Well, just Jake knew your address. He’d insisted on picking you up.
“No,” you told him. “Midwest, born and raised.”
“Stir crazy so you moved out West?”
“Something like that.” You nodded. “I’m going to take a shot in the dark and say you’re from down south?”
Jake laughed. Your heart skipped yet another beat and if it didn’t stop doing that you were going to have to schedule an appointment with your doctor before the night was out. “You’re a good shot.” He glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye. “Texas.”
“Oh, a cowboy?”
“Hardly.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the best of the radio. “I know my way around a horse, but I like to think I belong in the sky.”
“So I should call you flyboy instead?” You ask with a slight giggle to your voice. More nervous than anything but there’s no mistaking the way the corners of Jake’s lips pull back at the sound. You want to take a detour to base just to ask those friends of his if he normally smiles this much or if you can allow yourself to feed into the delusion that someone as stunning as him saw you in a rundown diner having lunch and was so enamored by you that he simply had to ask you out.
“Only if you put a ‘my’ in front of it.”
Conversation flowed easily after that. The drive to the restaurant wasn’t long but still let you have a good idea of who Jake was. A flirt, first and foremost. He couldn’t go thirty seconds without calling you ‘darlin’’ or ‘sugar’ and any way Jake could make a comment about how wonderful you were, he was taking it. You stared at him the entire ride, studying his profile. He was a handsome man. There was no denying that. Old-fashioned in the way where you and your friend would flip through history books and point out who you would have fallen in love with during that time period. If someone were to show you a grainy photo of a navy pilot, his was the kind of face you’d imagine.
He pulled into a spot and you immediately set to unbuckling and letting yourself out of the car.
“Ah,” Jake said as he shut off the car, “stay where you are.” And he hopped out to jog to the passenger side. “Here you are, darlin’.” He opened the door, offering you a hand, and helping you out of the car.
“Do they teach chivalry classes down in Texas?” You ask. He’s too busy positioning your hand on his bicep and leading you into the restaurant, where he holds open the door for you again, to answer.
“Sersin. Party of two,” He tells the host, who leads you to a table with a single, unlit candle in the middle.
Jake pulls your chair out for you, then settles in across from you in a strange mimicry of earlier today. You half expect him to spew the same cheesy pickup line but instead he fishes a lighter out of his pocket to light the candle.
“That’s better,” he says and turns his full attention on you with a grin. “So, tell me everything there is to know about you.”
You laugh, genuine this time. “About me?” He nods. “There’s not much to know about me. I’m kind of boring.”
Jake shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’m serious! My life is eat, sleep, work, repeat.”
“So is mine.”
“Yeah but you’re flying fighter jets and I’m too nervous to ask my boss for a promotion when I’m doing the work of two people.”
Jake’s eyebrows shoot up. “The work of two people, huh? You’re a hard worker, and I’m guessing you’re damn good at what you do, too. I wouldn’t call that boring.”
You roll your eyes at him, but the compliment brings a smile to your face. “I guess you could say that.”
“Okay, so, you’re hardworking, talented, and beautiful. What else is there to know about you, doll?”
“Actually, flyboy, I want to know why they cal you Hangman.” You lean forward and rest your chin in your hand. “That’s what everyone was calling you earlier today.”
He nods, leaning back in his seat. You drink in the movement. The way Jake squaring his shoulders has his nice green button down straining against his muscles and how he runs his tongue over his lips as he conjures up a thought.
“The real story, Seresin.” You raise an eyebrow in his direction.
“You remember my last name?”
“I texted it to my friend just in case you were secretly trying to murder me.”
He nods slowly. “You can never be too careful now a days.”
“Yup.”
“Well, you can tell your friend the only reason I’ll be making you scream is because my tongue is magic.” The waiter chooses that moment to appear over your shoulder asking if you and Jake are ready to order anything, leaving you a stuttering mess as you struggle to order something to drink. You can hardly form the word water to the point that Jake does it for you. “Thanks,” he tells the waiter as he walks off. Then he focuses his full attention back on you. “You held yourself together well.”
“Oh fuck off, you did that on purpose.” By the way he doesn’t deny it, you can tell you have him pegged. “Back to your true story.”
“It’s not as interesting as the one everyone else likes to tell.”
“I don’t care, flyboy. I want to know you, not everyone else.”
Interest sparks in his green eyes. “If you insist.” He leans forward, mimicking the way you’re on the edge of your seat. “In flight school we were running drills out in an old hangar when this nasty storm rolled him. Hurricane level winds and shit. Came out of nowhere. None of us were feeling too inclined to make a run for it in that kind of rain so we figured we’d hole up in the hangar for a few hours. There was an old radio that worked for a little bit and we figured there was no time like the presence to get some maintenance on this jet done until the weather down but the power went out.
“We had some flashlights and lanterns and things so it’s not like we were totally in the dark, but the stories ran out fast. We were bored out of minds. So, I recommended playing hangman. Something easy and simple ‘cause you can’t get too competitive with these guys. They take it way too far.”
“By them,” you cut in, “I’m guessing you mean you?”
He nods. “I won every single round and stumped them with all my puzzles.”
“Impressive,” you say, “I bet that pissed them all off.”
“Let’s just say everyone else’s version of why they call me Hangman holds a slight hint of disdain.”
The rest of the dinner flows naturally. You two talk without a single lull in conversation. He makes you laugh. He continues to compliment you every chance he can. But the real thing that works it’s way under your skin and lodges itself in your chest is the way he offers to switch plates with you when you take a bite of your meal and realize you don’t like it.
“No, Jake, you don’t have to. I’m a big girl. I’ll just deal with it.”
“Nonsense. It was my recommendation anyway.” Jake stares at you, jaw set, and voice firm. “I am not having you starving on this date. Give me your plate.”
And so you swap plates with him, taking a bite out of the steak he’d been raving about in the car when something in you breaks. You can hear how excited his tone of voice was. “It’s hard to get a decent steak when you’re on base.” He had told you. “The chow hall is okay if you like shoe leather and all, but now I hardly have time to make a decent cut of meat for myself.”
He gave it up so easily. The minute you set down your fork after three or four bites. Jake was telling you he’d switch. It… it was too much and you couldn’t help the sweeping off tears pushing at the back of your throat.
“Ah, shit.” He whispered. “Do you not want the steak? I can order you something else-”
You cut him off with the wave of your hand, which you quickly used to press over your mouth and stifle and unflattering sob. “No,” you whimpered, “this is perfect. Everything is perfect.”
“Are you sure?” Jake asked. “Because most ladies don’t start crying on dates when things are going well.”
You could tell he meant well. There was a joking lot to his voice and the bastard grin was back in his face but it only reminded you of how out of your element you were right now.
“I’m sorry.”
“I already told you to cut that out, sugar.”
“I know.” You sniffled, but tears kept falling. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“It’s okay. Just take a deep breath.” Jake softened a bit. He reached out across the table, palm up waiting for you to slip your hand in his. When you did, he squeezed softly. “Want to talk about it?”
With your free hand you swiped at your cheeks. “I haven’t been on a first date in- actually, I’ve never even been on a date.”
There was no denying the way Jake’s eyes widened. “You’re tellin’ me men aren’t breakin’ down your door to take a pretty thing like you out on dates?” You shake your head. “See, that’s the issue with California folk, they’re idiots.”
He grins gently at you, which you return in full. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“I would.”
“I’ve had a couple boyfriends, but we never did relationship stuff.” Jake’s brows furrow in confusion and you rush to explain. “They would never want to leave the house. If I wanted to go out it would have to be by myself. They never asked me on dates or called me ‘darlin’’-“ Jake rolls his eyes at your imitation of his accent- “or tell me I look beautiful. None of them ever held a door open for me. This is the first time I’ve even gotten flowers…” you trail off and bite down on your lip.
“I guess I should have seen it coming,” you fill the silence. “Everyone I’ve ever been in a relationship with has cheated on me. I guess I’ve always been a side chick or a rebound or whatever and you don’t really take side chicks out on dates. I always figured I wasn’t worth the romantic stuff, but there you are taking me out to a nice dinner and swapping dinners with me and… and I got overwhelmed.”
Jake is staring at you with a strange mix of anger and confusion. The gaze is lacking of pity, which you appreciate. If he were to think of you as a poor girl who couldn’t land a date, you’d walk home before finishing this dinner.
He says your name so softly for the first time that night. There’s a thousand times more emotion in that name than all the pet names he’s been calling you.
“This isn’t romance.” The words make your heart sink. “This is the bare minimum. Basic kindness, sweetheart. You deserve this and nothing less. I- it makes me so frustrated to hear you talking about a relationship where some asshole let you believe you didn’t deserve to be treated like a princess.” Jake’s voice wavers slightly as he talks, anger bleeding in but not raising his voice to an unacceptable level. “Where I come from this isn’t chivalry. This is the way things are done. If I’m taking a beautiful girl like you out on a date, you better believe I’m going to make sure you know that I’m the lucky one.”
More tears prick at your eyes. Your bottom starts to quiver and when you open your mouth to apologize for getting weepy again Jake shakes his head at you. “I don’t know which one of those ducks told you that you had to apologize all the time, and I’m sure it was one of them, but you never have to apologize for things like this, doll. You’re allowed to have feelings. You’re allowed to talk about them.”
“Yeah, but it’s not good etiquette to bring up your exes on a first date.” You slip your hand from his to better wipe at your face. This sinking feeling of shame seeps into you. You probably look like just as much of a wreck as you were turning this date into.
“So this won’t be our first date, then.” Jake says it so simply. The easiest solution in the wonderful despite it not making sense in the slightest.
“What?”
“We’ll call this afternoon our first date. I stole food for your plate and took a couple sips of your drink, so it counts.” Jake grins at you. “This is our second date, which means it is completely okay to talk about your exes.”
With a small sniffle you manage to meet his eye again. The intensity that he looks at you has your face warming up again. “I have to say, Jake. I think I’m the lucky one tonight.”
“You’re not sitting on my end of the table.”
Bonus:
Jake insisted on opening the door for you again when he pulled up to your house after dinner. The two do you had lingered as long as humanly possible, but the wait staff looked as though they were going to run the pair of you through with a kitchen knife so you reluctantly chose to head back towards home.
“Thank you.” You grabbed his hand as you stepped out of the car.
“Gives me an excuse to walk you to your door, pretty girl.”
“Oh, so this was all part of your masterplan?”
He laughs and stops under the light of your porch light. You’re fiddling with your keys, not too eager to open the door and end the night. Jake steps closer towards you, saying your name again for the second time that night. It’s a magnet, pulling you towards him so that his hands can settle at your waist. Those green eyes of his flick down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”
“I was waiting for you to ask that.”
Jake slides a hand from your waist to cup your cheek and he brings his lips to yours. No kiss you’ve ever had feels the way this one does. Right. Even your long term relationships were twinged with shame or doubt. Kissing Jake feels like forgetting your own name is completely normal because you want to be washed up in this feeling of bliss for forever. He pulls away after a few seconds, resting his forehead against yours, and it takes him a moment to finally open his eyes.
“Do you want to come in?” You ask, voice cracking slightly.
“I don’t know,” he says, “I don’t want you to think I’m only trying to hook up with you.”
You smile and press another soft kiss to his lips. Once again Jake takes a few seconds afterwards to fully look at you. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’re having hesitations about sleeping with me on our second date and that’s something only gentlemen do.”
Jake laughs. The sound is like the bliss of your kiss personified. You want to drown in it.
“Plus, I think you promised me that I’d have a story to tell my friend about how good your tongue is… or do you only use your mouth to talk big game?”
He nipped at your bottom lip. “Unlock that damn door right now, dollface.”
You thought he’d never ask.