Chapter 2: Pretzels & Strippers

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The following week, while at my job in the local coffee shop, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Ryan had been persistent about seeing me again over the past couple of days. I assumed that the first "date" went well, even if I had to cut it short.

We sat by the little pretzel stand for a little more than an hour, the conversation sliding quickly from the normal introductory question to a more in depth conversation about our opinions on the way the world worked. It wasn't at all what I had been expecting when I had agreed to let him buy me a pretzel. It was better...

Eventually, though, my phone had gone off and I realized that I was supposed to meeting one of my coworkers for dinner. I really didn't want to leave, but at the same time I knew that I had already spent too much time with a complete stranger. The chances of him even asking for my number had to be slim.

"Hey, I'm sorry to cut things short, but I'm supposed to be meeting someone for dinner." I bit my lip when his near-constant smile dropped.

"Oh, no, of course, yeah. You don't wanna keep a date waiting." He mumbled the last part with his eyes down on the table where he was tracing an invisible pattern with his finger.

"Date?" I asked with a laugh. "No, I'm just eating out with a friend from work." His eyes instantly lit back up and that goofy smile planted itself back on his face. "Why would you think that I had a date?" He looked at me, confusion coloring his expression

"So you're single?"

"Yeah?"

"And you don't have any suitors?"

"That's a no." I chuckled.

"I don't get it." It was my turn to be confused.

"Don't get what?"

"You're all little and sexy and smart and sexy and attractive and-" I held up my hand before my face could get any redder.

"If you say sexy again I think I'm going to die of embarrassment."

"Sorry," he grinned, "I promise I have a bigger vocabulary, you just make me forget how to use it." 

"On that note," I got up to leave before he convinced me to stay at this pretzel stand the rest of the night.

"Wait, you need my card," he scrambled out of his seat, almost taking it with him when his tank top got snagged on the back. He pulled out a dollar bill and a pen before scribbling something on the dollar and giving it to me. "In case, ya know, you wanna hang out or something." Upon closer observation, he had written his number on the dollar.

"This is your card?" I asked mid-laugh. "Are you a stripper?"

"No," he rolled his eyes, "what kind of normal stripper gives out money? I'm professional, ya see." He smirked. I just shook my head.

"I'll see ya."

Obviously I text him later and we were constantly messaging each other, but I still wasn't quite sure how I felt about the whole situation. A customer cleared her throat, pulling me out of my daze and back into real life.

After closing that night, picking up my brother, and driving home, I got a phone call. I looked down to see Ryan's name on the screen. After a few seconds of debating on whether I should answer, I dropped the phone on my leg and accidentally accepted the call.

"Hello?" Thank you, universe, for letting my nervous voice crack on one word.

"Hey Jay, it's Ryan." Ryan's voice sounded even deeper over the phone.

"Hey."

"What are you doing this weekend?" He dove right into it.

"Um, I have work on Saturday, but that's it. Why?"

"Do you wanna come to a party I'm having? It's just gonna be me and a couple of other people hanging out and drinking at my apartment."

"When?"

"Saturday night. You get off at 5, right?"

"Yeah." I bit my lip, not quite sure what I was about to get myself into.

"I can come pick you up from work and you could stay the night at my apartment." He must have been pretty nervous, because most of his words ran together and it all came out in one big jumble. "If you want." He added after taking a breath.

"Um," I really didn't know what to say. I mean, of course I wanted to go out with him again, but I wasn't quite sure if we were on the drinking level yet. We had only met the previous weekend.

"I know we just met and that drinking around a bunch of strangers sounds like a bad idea, but I'm not drinking and the party is really just an excuse to have some people around so that the first time you come to the apartment it's not just us and you get all freaked out or something like that because-"

"Ryan," I interrupted, "you're rambling." I chuckled. "I'll think about it though." I heard a sigh of relief.

"Okay, yeah, you do that, and get a good night's sleep and don't do drugs and all that."

"Sure thing, old man."

"I'm only 21!"

"Goodnight Ryan."

"Sweet dreams Jay."

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