The warm scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries filled the café. The bartenders moved quickly behind the counter, fulfilling orders of new customers who flowed in and out as the day dragged on. I adjusted my position in the booth, realizing how stiff my body had become from sitting for countless hours. Flipping to a new page, I continued scribbling down my notes, pushing the thought of how heavy my eyelids were beginning to feel to the back of my mind.

"You never responded to my text."

A familiar husky voice interrupted my thoughts as I looked up. Hunter stood beside my table, dressed in a white button-down that was tucked into his jeans. His attire was almost identical to what he had on the night we met, I began to wonder if he owned any other clothing.

"I've been a little busy," I responded, gesturing to the textbook and notepad laid out on the table in front of me.

"Can't say I'm not hurt," he said, sliding into the booth across from me. "What has kept you so busy from me?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Studying."

Hunter leaned forward on the table, his eyes watching me closely. "You don't take study breaks?"

"You texted me your name, not an SOS. I didn't realize that needed an immediate response." I looked back down at my work, running a finger across the page of my textbook to find my previous spot.

"Let me take you out tonight."

I scoffed. "No."

"Why not?" he questioned, surprised by my dismissal.

Turning my head back up, I tapped my textbook with the end of my pencil. "Studying."

Hunter rolled his eyes. "Fine. Tomorrow night then."

"No."

"The night after that?"

"No."

"Fuck, Dylan," he groaned, "Are you really going to make me beg?"

I shrugged. "Beg all you want."

Hunter reached forward and slammed my book shut. I looked up to meet his gaze, eyes wide in response to his sudden action.

"When's your test?" He asked, his tone returning to its familiar husky sound.

"Friday afternoon."

"Great. Friday night then I am taking you out."

A frustrated sigh escaped my lips. "If I say yes, will you please let me get back to studying?"

Now I was the one begging.

Hunter nodded with a satisfied smirk.

"Fine. Friday night."

Hunter placed his hand on the small of my back as the two of us followed the waiter to our table. I was surprised Hunter had told me we were going to an Italian restaurant for dinner. Not because he happened to pick my favourite place, but because he remembered when I told him about it the first night we met. Once seated, I busied myself with looking over the menu as it if was much more interesting than a piece of paper with meals listed on it.

"How was the test?"

I glanced up, meeting his gaze. "I think it went well."

"I'm glad to hear it," he said with a grin, "I was worried if it went poorly you wouldn't want to come tonight."

I smiled weakly, not wanting to admit the excitement I had during the week over tonight. There was something about Hunter that intrigued me, mainly due to Abby mentioning she thought it was odd he seemed so determined for me to accept going on a date.

"Not that it's odd he would ask you out, I mean, you're hot, Dylan." Abby quickly added, as if she was worried I was offended over her comment. "I've just never heard of Hunter Grayson taking a girl out. Let alone beg for one to agree to a date."

From what I gathered from Abby's information, a simple dinner was out of character for Hunter.

"How old are you?"

Hunter brought his glass of water towards his lips. "Twenty-one."

"Are you in school?"

"No."

"What do you do then?"

"I work."

A frown crossed my face at his short answers. "Well, what do you do for work?"

Hunter seemed amused by my frustration, which only made the feeling grow. "I manage a group of promoters for nightclubs."

"Is that how you know Abby's boyfriend? Jake?"

Hunter nodded. "Probably should have fired the kid after I found out he let you and your underage friends in."

"Why didn't you?"

"I met you." A smirk crossed his lips.

I tapped my fingers against the table as silence consumed the two of us. No wonder Abby had said this wasn't what Hunter usually did, he was horrible at it.

I looked over Hunter's appearance as we sat without speaking a word to one another. As always, his short brown hair was tousled to the side. The dark grey in his eyes would have seemed haunting if it weren't for the light blue colour that was mixed in. Hunter dressed in a crisp white button-down, which seemed out of sort for a twenty-one-year-old to wear, yet he pulled it off so casually. By leaving the top two buttons undone, I was able to spot the top of a tattoo that appeared to be on his chest. I began to wonder how many he had as my eyes looked down at his hands, noticing more small ink marks by his wrist.

My eyes glanced around the restaurant, looking at the other couples seated at their respective tables. At least they seemed to be enjoying their time.

"Am I boring you?" The sound of his voice snapped me out of my trance.

"No." I pulled my eyes from the other patrons, looking back to Hunter.

"What were you thinking so hard about, then?" He asked as if he had been studying my facial expression the entire time.

"I was just wondering why you bothered asking me out if you just plan on sitting here in silence."

A low chuckle escaped his lips as Hunter leaned his body forward. "Sorry, it's hard for me to focus right now with how beautiful you look."

"I'm sure you say that to every girl." The attempt at sounding unaffected by his words failed from the shade of pink that rushed to my cheeks.

The waiter returned after another moment of silence to take our order. Once the man had scribbled everything down onto his notepad, he collected our menus and disappeared.

I took a long sip of water in an attempt to aid the dryness of my mouth. "Tell me about yourself."

Hunter raised a brow. "What would you like to know?"

"Where did you grow up?"

"New York." Before I allowed myself to become annoyed by yet another short response, he repeated my question, "Where did you grow up?"

"Right here in LA."

"Why didn't you leave home for University?"

A genuine smile crossed my lips as Hunter finally ask his own question. This was progress.

"I always wanted to attend UCLA." The main factor behind my decision was moving out of my family's home, and thankfully, since my mother loathed the idea of me staying in a tiny dorm room, my parents agreed to set me up in an apartment downtown.

"Do you have any siblings?"

Hunter nodded. "Two, an older sister and brother. Do you?"

"I have a sister, she's three years older than me."

"What's her name?" Hunter seemed to enjoy taking over the role of asking questions, but I sensed it was an attempt at teasing me.

"Delilah."

"And what does Delilah do?"

I blinked a few times, attempting to come to an answer. "I... I don't know," I finally replied and sensed the confusion on Hunter's expression. "She's not dead," I added quickly, "I just don't know what she's up to."

Hunter raised a brow. "What do you mean you don't know?"

My teeth sunk into my bottom lip, letting out a sigh before I spoke, "One morning when I was fourteen, I woke up and my mother said she went off to a boarding school in Europe. Didn't say goodbye, didn't know why she went." I shrugged. "Since then it hasn't been the same. We don't talk much."

The waiter arrived back at our table and placed our meals down in front of us. I took a bite of my food, thinking about what I had just exposed. It wasn't a big secret I kept, but it definitely wasn't a first-date topic either, let alone something discussed within my own family. And the look on Hunter's face told me it was something I should have kept to myself; his jaw clenched, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Can I ask you something?"

The hard expression washed from his face; the return of his devious smirk felt oddly comforting.

"Haven't you been doing that all night?" Hunter teased.

"Why did you ask me out?" I asked, taking another small bite from my pasta dish.

"I like you."

"But-"

"I think it's only fair if I get a question now. Why do you ask?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Abby said you don't really do this sort of thing."

"Abby doesn't know me." His voice dropped low, and the smirk vanished once again.

"She seems to," I mumbled, looking down at my plate.

Hunter took a sip from his glass. "A lot of people seem to think they know things about me. But it's far from the truth."

I felt a tinge of guilt from his words. I knew Abby said the things she had about Hunter to warn me, not to talk me out of things, but I still wondered how many people created a false narrative about him.

"Well," I softly spoke, clearing my throat, "I guess I wouldn't be here if I believed everything I heard."

His lips twisted up. "And that's why I like you."

The rest of the night was filled with, surprisingly, a natural flow of conversation compared to how it began. Hunter voluntarily explained his move from New York to Los Angeles. A friend's older brother started promoting for local clubs in the downtown area and thought Hunter would be a good fit. He explained that he and another family used to vacation in Santa Barbara over the summer when he was younger, so California felt like a second home. After a few weeks, he fell in love in the city and didn't feel a need to return. Three years later he was running a successful business and hoped one day he could own a few establishments of his own.

I, on the other hand, accidentally told him that my father's nickname for me was Dill Pickle. When Hunter finally stopped laughing, we made a compromise: he was never allowed to call me that if I agreed to another date. Although I tried to convince myself I only accepted a second date to avoid being called by my embarrassing childhood nickname, I couldn't help but feel a twist of excitement inside me.

As we walked back to my apartment, making small talk, the ease of conversation never found a dull moment. I glanced down at our intertwined fingers, my heart continuing to flutter from the moment our hands touched.

"This is me," I said as we stopped outside the apartment door. "Thank you for a lovely dinner."

Hunter turned to face me. "Well, thank you for agreeing to join me."

As he stepped closer, the flutter in my chest felt as if it were about to explode. His hand moved to the side of my face, cupping my cheek as his head dipped down. I could feel his breath against my skin, his lips inches away from touching mine, the smell of his woodsy cologne overpowering my senses.

"I hope when I message you for our second date, you'll answer this time," his voice purred.

I nodded, too weak from the rush of emotions flowing through me to find the strength to say yes. His eyes flickered to my lips for a brief moment, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. The simple act of breathing suddenly became a chore at that moment.

Then, without another moment of hesitation, the distance between us closed. The light touch of his lips against mine felt like a spark ignited inside my body.

It was a first kiss like nothing before, and at that moment, felt like nothing would ever compare. 

2019; don't forget to vote/comment my angels <3 xo