“You are pretty good at this planning dates thing for a guy who hasn’t done it before.”

We eat, conversation flows easily, as it always does with us. It doesn’t feel like much of a date at all, mostly, but the unfamiliar excitement in my gut and tingling through my fingertips as I press a hand to her lower back and lead her upstairs is the stuff of first dates that I didn’t realize I was missing out on. Though to be fair, I’m not sure I’d feel this way with anyone but Sydney.

It isn’t like there weren’t good times with Amelia, but Sydney’s right. I let her, and everyone else I dated, run the show. I treated dates almost like they were a reward for putting up with my insane schedule and the hundreds of nights they came over and just chilled because I couldn’t go out because of a practice or game the next day.

That’s my life. In between a fun night out once a week or once every few weeks when things are really busy, is a lot of nights of me going to bed early so I can be at my best. Letting my girlfriends pick the dates felt like the least I could do. Now I have to wonder if I should have been more excited to plan things like I am now.

Seeing Sydney’s face when we get to the balcony on the top floor of this club tells me everything I need to know. One, planning dates for her is fun. Two, I don’t want to go back to relationships where I’m a passive participant. And three, fuck all my good intentions and reasons for holding out.

16

SYDNEY

Tanner grabs me a drink from the bar and we sit on a low sofa on the balcony. It’s a clear night and the moon and stars create a light show on the lake. I lean into him to steal some of his warmth and he pulls me closer.

“It’s amazing up here.” The wind blows my hair around my face and into Tanner’s.

“I’m not sure how you can even see it.” He uses both hands to brush my hair out of my face.

Goose bumps dot my arms as he continues to touch me and look at me like I’m the only other person out here. Something changed over dinner. One minute we were Tanner and Sydney, best friends who want more, and the next we were two people on a first date with insane chemistry ready to rip each other’s clothes off. I can see it on his face. No matter how hard he’s trying to hide it or stick to his five-date plan. He’s breaking.

“Cold?” He rubs my arms from shoulder to wrist.

“I’m okay.”