Boyfriend #8
Paul Diaz, twentysomething
He was in her watercolor class, so cute and the sweet kind of shy.
They obviously clicked, the attraction thrilling between them, lacing their every casual word with a deeper subtext of admiration and desire.
Between the relaxed conversations, “accidental” brushing of hands, and coy catching of glances, they were basically dating, even if they technically never went on a date.
She gave him openings but guessed he was too timid to ask her out.
The last day of class, she waited for him outside the art building, thinking she had nothing to lose.
After all, one of them had to finally ease the tension of this semester-long will they/won’t they, so they would have a fun story to tell their kids.
“Hey, Paul, my work is having this fancy dinner party next weekend, and the food’s supposed to be great. Would you like to go with me?”
“Oh, uh, maybe, I’ll have to check,” he said. And then, “Sorry, how do I know you?”
There’s always something to lose.