Page 84 of Made Better Together

“You look beautiful.” His tone holds a hint of awe, but his smile is calm as he opens the car door for me. “Like a ray of sunshine.”

I can’t think of anything clever to say, so I stick to, “Thank you.”

He comes around and starts the car, and as he pulls into the street, he switches on the music. “You can choose whatever you want.”

Settling into the seat, I find my words again. “Sheesh, holding the door for me, letting me pick the music…”

He chuckles. “Wanted to display those gentlemanly manners you once told me you expected from a Southern boy.”

I laugh. “Not expected. But it’s nice to experience them.”

He looks at me briefly, the final rays of the evening sun dancing in his eyes, before turning back to the road. “I’ll remember that.”

While he’s driving, I have a chance to examine him properly. He’s wearing a blue plaid button-down over khaki pants, his long legs stretched out under the steering wheel. Being a mid-October night in Florida, it’s finally not too hot for all that clothing.

But I know what’s underneath. Or a lot of it anyway. And now Bree’s question is pinging around in my head.

What do I want from tonight? If the image pinned in my head of his shirtless body is any indication, I want more than a kiss.

He interrupts my perusal once he’s turned onto the highway. “I thought we could start on Hibiscus Avenue, where all those bars are?”

“Yes, perfect. I’ve barely been downtown. So many places are twenty-one and older, and my birthday was in June.”

“You didn’t have a fake before then?”

“No, I’m too much of a goody two-shoes for that. I was terrified I’d get caught. Why, did you?”

“Yeah. Not because I’m a huge party guy. It was annoying not to get into places with my brothers or teammates before then.”

“You mentioned you don’t drink much. Is there a story to that?” He’s not playing sports, so I know it’s not the same reasoning as me.

“No big story, and I actually enjoy getting a little buzzed. I’ll be a fine partner for this bar crawl tonight.” He winks at me.

“Oh, thank God,” I joke.

“I just hate when it goes beyond that. When things get sloppy. Not for other people, I’m not judgmental. We’re young and all that. But for me—I want to be able to stay in control of myself.”

That actually fits him. “I get that.”

We fall into a comfortable silence once he pulls into the downtown area. It takes a while to navigate to Hibiscus Street, so I let him focus.

Once parked, I peer around at all the visible bars, knowing that even more options are out of sight. “Where are we starting first?”

“Do you trust me?” His teasing tone keeps me from worrying.

“Uh oh, what does that mean?”

“I planned out an actual tour. Like what places, in order.”

That’s kind of sweet? I mean, it’s an effort Greg never made. “Wow, sounds fun.”

Once out of the car, Connor grabs my hand. It’s awesome to be this far away from campus—I’m not going to worry about seeing anyone I know.

Hand in hand, he leads me to what is apparently the first destination on his list, Peaches & Cream. It’s more of a wine bar than a pub.

We grab a small high table, and once we sit down, he scootches my chair over closer to his. With me in it. It’s quite a move, but he acts nonchalant about it.

“Here’s a menu.” He passes me the laminated peach paper.