Thirteen
Elle
Everything about Henry Sanchez screams happily ever after.
He’s charming. He’s funny. He understood the yellow picture frame that I have around the peephole in my apartment.
He’s very handsome—the perfect combination of high school football captain and dark romance love interest. His hair is short and neat, and thankfully, he doesn’t use product.
Guys who put gel in their hair instantly give me the ick.
He’s smart. He went to Stanford. He runs his own business, which he wants to franchise. He is close with his family and has one older sister. She has two kids who he loves immensely. They live in Connecticut, but he sees them as often as he can.
He shows me pictures of himself holding freaking babies with a huge grin on his face. That is how perfect he is.
I’m determined to make this date amazing.
I want so badly to forget about the nagging thought I have in my head, the one about a certain doctor who wears beanies and buys the most adorable toys for his dog.
Because that thought isn’t going to get me anywhere.
I have a great guy sitting in front of me, and I refuse to focus on anything but him.
“It’s funny. When we met the other day, I thought I’d seen you before.” He twists his face, like he is trying to remember where he knows me from. “Around my gym, maybe?”
“Where is your gym? I ask, playing with the bucatini on my plate.
“75th and Amsterdam.”
“I teach at the yoga studio there. I didn’t realize that was your gym.
What a small world!” I say, maybe too enthusiastically.
I add another item to the list of things we have in common.
All this time, Henry worked at the gym beneath where I teach.
As someone who fully believes in fate, and the universe giving you things when you need them, I take this as a sign.
“How did you get into yoga?” He crosses his arms—his extremely large arms—on the table and leans forward, his full attention on me.
“I started in college and never stopped. It’s… I don’t know. Kind of a happy place for me,” I say, blushing. “That sounds stupid.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he says, shaking his head. “The gym is my happy place too. It’s a safe space, where I feel the most comfortable. That’s what you feel when you do yoga, right?”
I nod, letting a small smile spread across my face. “Yeah, exactly.”
From our conversation so far, I’ve noticed that Henry is very thoughtful. He asks questions because he genuinely wants to hear the answer, not just because he thinks he has to. He considers what I say and builds on it. Talking with him is like getting a hug from a big, warm teddy bear.
“Let me guess, you didn’t have a space that was just yours growing up? Maybe an annoying older sister that wouldn’t let you near any of her stuff? Because I definitely have one of those.” He chuckles.
“I have a little brother. But in a way you’re right, I didn’t really have my own space in our house. My parents divorced when I was young, and Nick and I stayed with my mom in our tiny three-bedroom.”
“Are you close with your brother?” Henry asks, genuine interest in his eyes.
I nod, a smile spreading across my face. “He’s my favorite person in the world. He has Down’s syndrome, so he needed a little extra care growing up. I guess that’s why I didn’t have a place that was just for me. I think people assume that I must resent him for it, but I could never.”
Henry’s gaze flicks down to my mouth and I can feel the heat of a blush creeping into my cheeks again.
When he looks back up, I hold eye contact for moment and put on my best flirting face, then look back down at my plate.
I relish in the feeling of him watching my every move.
There’s not exactly fireworks going off in my body, but I feel wanted, and that’s a start.
Even though Henry is amazing, in the amount of time I’ve been sitting in this restaurant, I’ve decided that I hate dating.
Specifically, I hate first dates. I hate feeling like I’m on a job interview while also trying to discern whether someone is attractive.
It’s weird, and frankly a little messed up, the way we have to sit here and pretend that we’re both not thinking about whether we want to have sex with the other.
We’re making small talk about families and jobs and hobbies, and using that to decipher whether the other person might suck in bed.
The whole process is awkward and I really want no part of it anymore.
Why can’t I skip this step and just find the love of my life?
Forget the whole courting process and be in a settled relationship?
But also find them without leaving my couch? That would be the dream.
We opt to walk back to the apartment, stopping for gelato on the way. Henry gets pistachio and I get chocolate and strawberry. I laugh as he tells a story about a client who visited the gym last week and got stuck under the bench press.
“I’m sorry for laughing! I’m sure it wasn’t funny in the moment,” I say, putting another spoonful of gelato into my mouth. Henry’s gaze lingers on my movements, but he recovers quickly.
“No, it was pretty funny in the moment. There was no weight on the bar. The poor guy was just trying the gym for the first time. I felt so bad, but I couldn’t help laughing either.”
“No! You laughed at him?” I cover my mouth.
“I couldn’t help it!” Henry admits with a smile. “I don’t think I’ll see him at my gym again.”
“You better hope he doesn’t have a vengeful side and do a whole one-star review rampage on Yelp.”
“Oh shit, I didn’t even think of that.” Henry rubs his temples. “That’s what I’ll be doing when I get home then.”
We slow to a stop outside of my apartment building, and I notice that Oliver’s window is illuminated.
I’m surprised he’s up this late on his night off, but more likely, he and Thor just have fallen asleep watching TV and he didn’t turn the light off.
When I turn back to Henry, I can tell that he saw what I was looking at.
I smile and act like it’s nothing, because it is nothing.
“I had a great time,” I say, and I genuinely mean it, but an awkwardness has fallen between us.
“Me too,” he replies, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat. “Can I call you again?” My heart melts a little. He is literally a textbook dreamy romance hero. Lucy would be screaming at me right now if she saw this interaction.
I think back to the beginning of the night, when Henry put his hand on the small of my back and ushered me into the restaurant.
If there was a jolt of excitement, I can’t recall it.
I don’t remember if I got butterflies in my stomach when he smiled at me as we ordered our meals.
But I’m excited to see Henry again because he is full of possibilities, not necessarily because of how I felt on this one date.
There will be a spark next time, I’m sure.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” I say with a flirty smile.
Henry leans forward and places a quick kiss on my cheek, saying he’ll see me soon. I wait for the imprint of his lips to leave a searing sensation on my skin. It doesn’t happen.
I look up at the building before climbing the stairs. The apartment above mine is now dark.