Lincoln: Do you like bagels?

Paisley: I do.

Lincoln: Does Einstein Bros work for you?

Paisley: Definitely!

Lincoln: Okay.

Paisley: I'll meet you there.

My phone rings and I quickly answer.

"Okay, give me an update. Make it quick. I'm hiding in the bathroom at work," Brynn says, voice hushed.

"I'm meeting him for breakfast. Brynn, what the hell am I doing?" I sigh.

"You're going out with the guy you met an hour ago. The guy you happen to have a crush on," she laughs.

"Bry, if you saw him, you'd understand," I breathe, running a hand through my hair.

"Uh, probably not. Your taste in guys is definitely not the same as my taste in guys," she snorts.

"Yeah," I murmur.

"How far are you?" She asks.

"I'm like five minutes," I drum my fingers on the steering wheel as I wait for the light to turn green.

"Okay. Be safe. I have your location, so if he tries to kidnap you or some shit, I swear to fuck, Paise, I'll track you both fucking down and—"

"Yes, I know, Brynn," I cut her off, taking another breath. "I'll be safe."

"Text me soon. To give me another update," she says.

"I will," I promise.

"I love you," she murmurs.

"I love you, too," I smile.

I pull up to the bagel place a couple of minutes later.

I take a few deep breaths before I dig my phone out of my pocket.

I open Lincoln's contact and hesitate at the call button.

Please don't let him be a creep.

I chew on my bottom lip, and nearly jump out of my skin when my phone starts ringing.

"Jesus fuck balls," I mutter before answering it.

"Hey, Paisley," Lincoln's voice says through the phone. "I just pulled up."

"Me too," I grin. "I'm going inside right now."

I open the front door and move inside.

I stand off to the side in the corner as I wait for him to come in.

I see him walk through the door and he turns as he looks around the room.

He smiles when he sees me and I wave.

I walk over to him and he grins.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey," I breathe.

I can't do this.

I need air.

I can't trust myself to be around him.

I need—

"Are you alright?" Lincoln asks, his eyebrows furrowing and his hand resting on my elbow.

"No," I nod. "I mean, yes, yes, I'm alright. Sorry."

I smile at him and he laughs quietly.

I think that's my new favorite sound.

We get in line and I let out a breath.

This isn't working.

I shouldn't feel like this.

I just met him.

I shouldn't want him this much.

"Paisley?" Lincoln says, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeah. Sorry," I shake my head.

"Are you sure you feel alright? You look a little pale," he murmurs.

"Yes. I'm fine. Just a little—"

I bite my bottom lip, not sure what to say.

He's fine as hell, and I'm nervous as fuck around him.

"I—well, I'm fine," I exhale.

"Okay," he says, but his eyes linger on my fingers picking at my nails.

We get to the front of the line and order.

When we find a table, Lincoln pulls my chair out for me and I grin up at him.

I'm fucking ridiculous.

He sits down across from me and leans forward to rest his head on his hands.

I put my hands in my lap and start picking at my fingernails.

I need to say something to him.

Not something stupid though.

"Do you like reading?" Lincoln asks, making me look back up at him.

"Yeah, I do," I grin. "How'd you know?"

"Your shirt kind of gave it away," he smiles.

I look down at my shirt and squeeze my eyes shut for a second.

I can't fucking believe this is the shirt I'm wearing.

Of course, the first time I wear the stupid shirt Brynn bought me that says 'buy me books and tell me to STFUATTDLAGG', I meet a hot guy.

"What does STFUATTDLAGG mean?" He cocks an eyebrow at me.

"Nothing important," I say too quickly, my voice higher than it should be.

He smirks at me.

God, please don't let him know what it means.

"Do you read?" I blurt out.

"Not since I read To Kill A Mockingbird in high school," he grins.

"Mm," I murmur, smiling again.

His dimples are so cute.

"What else do you do for fun?" He asks.

When I don't answer, his eyebrows furrow.

"Ah, um, sorry. I probably should tell you something about me so you don't think I'm a creepy pervert or something," he says. "I'm twenty-five. I've been diabetic since I was three years old. I work at a tattoo shop. I just started there. I've gotten fired from all my other jobs. I actually really like doing tattoos. I'm not that good at it yet, but I do enjoy it. I think I'm obsessed with One Direction love songs, which my friend, Ryland, never lets me forget. He thinks it's stupid. My favorite movie is The Proposal, which is also something Ryland likes to make fun of me about. I've never had a girlfriend for longer than a week, and even then, I've only ever dated four girls. I basically survive off of Coke, and Dr. Pepper sometimes, which definitely isn't healthy, but I still do it. And my favorite color is red."

I'm smiling so wide when he finishes, that he starts grinning at me again.

"I'm twenty three," I hum. "I love One Direction. I think my favorite singer is probably Sabrina Carpenter or One Direction. I refuse to choose between them. I love The Proposal. All rom-coms in general, really. Especially 2000s rom-coms. I've been trying to convince myself to watch Gilmore Girls for months, and I honestly just can't motivate myself, even though I'm pretty positive I would absolutely love it. I haven't ever had a relationship last more than a month. I use to drink soda like every day, but I've made it my goal to eat better for my brother and my dad. My favorite color is pink. For fun, I read, I cook and bake, I go up to the lake with my friend Brynn, and I walk my dogs. And I definitely don't think you're a creepy pervert."

I think this is definitely a date.

God, I hope it's a date.

I don't know how long we stay there, but when I finally convince myself to say I have to go, I immediately want to take it back and just stay there talking to him.

"I could see us lasting longer than a week. And longer than a month," he murmurs, reaching over and squeezing my hand.

"Me too," I whisper.

He leans forward, making me freeze and he quickly leans back.

"Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No, oh God, I'm sorry—I'm just being crazy today," I shake my head, my face turning bright red.

I put my hands on the table and bury my face there.

"I'm sorry," I groan. "I swear, I'm usually not this stupid."

"No, it's alright. I don't think you're stupid. I usually don't try to kiss people after I've only known them for a couple of hours," he grins sheepishly and runs his fingers through his hair.

He almost kissed me.

I hesitate for a second before leaning forward.

My lips press softly against his, and everything in me relaxes.

God, it's so easy—

I pull away from him hesitantly.

I stare at him, surprise clear on both of our faces.

"You kissed me," he whispers, a smile taking over his face.

"Yeah, I did," I murmur, my cheeks turning pink, even as I give him a little smile.

"Can I walk you to your car?" He asks.

"Yes," I smile.

We walk outside and slowly walk towards my car.

When we get there, I turn around and look up at him.

I don't know how it's possible, that I just met him today, and I already feel like I've known him forever.

I opened up faster to him than I've ever opened up to anyone else.

"Thank you. So much. I had a lot of fun," I breathe.

"I did too," he exhales. "We should do this again."

"Yeah. Definitely," I agree.

He leans down and kisses me quickly again.

"This might be my new favorite thing," he whispers against my lips.

"Mine too," I murmur.