Embarra-skiing

There's a first time for everything; I arrive before Bryan does at basil, where we'll have our second date. Usually I'm too nervous to arrive first. There's so much pressure: where do you sit? How do you react when they first walk in? But tonight I'm too tired and distracted by my last encounter with Emma to care. 

I snag a window table even though I'm offered a booth. I'm not usually one to turn a booth down, but tonight I want to people-watch. 

Bryan arrives within five minutes. He's walked too, instead of taking his motorcycle. That must mean he lives close by, I muse. I'm still thinking about Emma and DJ when he walks in, but I plaster a smile on my face when he sees me. 

"Hey!" He's practically beaming. That makes my smile a little more genuine. I can't help it--he looks happy. He really does deserve my full attention, so I push Emma from my mind. For now. 

"You can sit down, you know," I joke. He's still standing. At that, he turns a little pink and quickly sits. 

"Sorry," he apologizes, "I have a lot on my mind. After you called it was a hell of a day." 

I raise my eyebrows. "Same here," I tell him. "But at least we're on the same page. If I'm grumpy or distant, you'll have to forgive me." 

"You don't seem grumpy at all." Nice of h to say. I'm sure my bitchface is going strong, so I try to relax for him. 

"I'm guessing you don't want to talk about work then, huh?"

Bryan shakes his head. "And I'm guessing you don't want to talk about what's wrong either?"

I shake my head and laugh a little. "Not at all," I say. 

He leans in a little. "So, Ryan," he says," what is your most embarrassing memory?"

I have to admit, I'm startled. No one has ever asked me that before. "Well," I say slowly, "probably the day my group of friends in high school went skiing. I'd never been, but was too proud to take an introductory course or even start on the bunny slopes." As I tell the story, the memory came back with strange accuracy, as though I'm reliving the embarrassment. I go into extreme detail, telling him how I was absolutely terrified going on the ski lift and was sure I would fall off. He's already laughing when I tell him how I got off the chair completely unscathed, only to completely wipe out not fifteen feet from the top of the hill. I had to have an emergency snowmobile retrieve me from the hilltop. 

By the end of the story, Bryan is cracking up. I have to admit, I feel good about myself. I love making people laugh. 

"Wow," he says, still grinning. "Mine pales in comparison."

"Don't think that means you won't have to tell me!" I say. 

With a heaving fake sigh, Bryan tells me how he walked in on his freshman roommate watching porn in the dorm. I gasp as he describes the shock, and how neither of them really looked at each other for the rest of the year. 

"That's mortifying," I say once the story is over. "But at least it wasn't you watching porn."

"I almost wish it had been," he admits. "I felt like the voyeur while he got to act wounded."

After our stories there is a pleasant lull in the conversation as we eat our respective pad Thai. I'm glad for the silence, and even happier that it doesn't make things awkward between us. 

"So I was thinking," Bryan says, swallowing a bite, "that next time we see each other I can take you out on my bike."

I can't help it-- I clap my hands excitedly like a child. "No way! Really?" I'm almost embarrassed at my reaction but too thrilled to care. "Do you mind? Wait! Do you have an extra helmet?"

Bryan laughs at my reaction. "Yes, I do. Safety first for my passengers." 

"I'd love that," I say. "If you couldn't already tell." 

"I thought you would," he says, smiling. "A little bit more adventurous than a dinner date, right?"

"But I love food," I say, deadpan. For a minute he looks surprised, but then realizes I'm joking. 

"We'll get mcdonalds afterward. Good compromise?"

I nod. "Perfect."

When I look outside I'm surprised to see how dark it is. I check my watch: 9:45. "Wow," I say, surprised. "It's late!"

Bryan pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time. That's another thing I like about him--he kept his phone away throughout the whole dinner. "We're really closing this place down."

As I look around I see it's true. There are only a few other tables still occupied, and most of them are paying their bill. 

"Maybe we should take the hint," Bryan suggests. 

He pays for dinner, like a gentleman, though I offer to split the bill, like a lady. He even offers to walk me home, and this time I accept. 

We don't talk much on the way to my apartment; instead, we point out the gorgeous full moon and comment on how nice of a night it is. Before I know it, we've reached my apartment complex. 

"Well," I say, turning to face Bryan, "I had a lot of fun tonight."

"Me too," he agrees, "and I'll never look at a ski lift the same way again."

I laugh a little. Honestly I'm surprised at how well tonight went. I'd been in a bad mood, and he'd had a bad day as well, but for what reason, I don't know. That could have been a mood killer, but instead we'd been talkative and lighthearted, which is exactly what I needed. 

I realize I've been quiet for a moment, but right as I'm about to open my mouth to say something, Bryan leans in and kisses me. It's a soft kiss, quick and sweet. I can feel him smile when he pulls away. 

"I'll see you soon," he tells me, and it sounds like a promise.  

I smile in the dark. I'm definitely ready for date three.