#first date

You were nervous. A nervous wreck, really. Part of you was convinced this was all some ploy, but Hannah told you otherwise. "He's not like that, I promise," she said. And you chose to believe her. You had to believe her.

You wanted to.

You spent an hour getting ready, taking multiple pictures and sending them to Hannah and Allie for feedback. By the end, you were satisfied, even if still nervous. You waited anxiously on your couch for the text from Dean.

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on your door. You swallowed. You hadn't expected him to actually come up to your door, but then again, you hadn't expected any of this. You stood up, walking over and opening the door.

Dean was holding flowers, a small smile on his face. His eyes raked over you, slowly and with no intention to hide his gaze. "Wow," he breathed out. You felt a little uncomfortable, not because of him, but because you weren't used to such an intense stare.

"Hi," you greeted softly, a small smile on your face.

"Hi," he repeated back. He held his hand out with the flowers, and you took them slowly. "I, uh, I asked Hannah what your favorites were."

You smiled a little brighter at that, sniffing the flowers and nodding. "That's sweet. Come in, let me put these in a vase."

He followed you inside, sitting on your couch as you searched your kitchen for a vase and set the flowers up on your countertop. Once you were done, Dean stood up, holding out his hand. "Shall we?"

You nodded. "We shall."

He chuckled, leading you out of your house, letting you lock your door, before leading you to his car. He opened the door for you, before rounding the car and getting in. "Where are we going?" you asked.

Dean smiled. "That's a surprise, sweetheart." You swallowed, not the biggest fan of surprises. Dean glanced at you. "Trust me. Hannah gave me all I needed to know."

That made you feel a little more at ease. You thought it was sweet he took the time to ask Hannah about you, but you tried not to let it go to your head. After all, you needed to be realistic. You doubted very seriously that you two were actually compatible.

Still, he let you pick the music and the talk in the car was easy and friendly, like it just flowed. You didn't get into deep conversations and you didn't ask many questions outside of the basic ones, saving all of that for when you got to wherever you were going.

Soon, you pulled up to your all-time favorite restaurant, and a small smile encompassed your face. Dean looked at you, a smile on his. "See, some surprises are worth it, hm?"

You giggled, nodding. Dean got out, rounding the car and opening your door, holding his hand out. You took it gladly, letting him guide you out of the car and into the restaurant. You were seated in a booth, Dean across from you as you both ordered your drinks.

"What do you like most about this place?" Dean asked once the waitress left.

"The atmosphere. I'm big on energy, and the energy here is always so good."

Dean nodded, eyes studying you. Not critically or anything, just a small glint in his look that made you aware he was taking notes. "I have to ask," you started. "Why'd you wanna go on a date with me?"

Dean tilted his head, like the question was the most puzzling thing in the world. "Why wouldn't I? You're beautiful and kind."

You shook your head, giggling. "No, I mean...you're not the type to go on dates, Dean."

Dean nodded, his throat working as he swallowed. "Well, maybe it's time to change that."

It was your turn to tilt your head, but the question remained unasked as the waitress brought your drinks. You both took a few minutes to look at the menu before ordering your food. By the time the waitress left once again, the energy had changed slightly.

Not bad. Just...different.

"So, hockey's not your thing. What is?"

Dean's forearms were on the table, him leaning in slightly as if what you were about to say was the most important thing in the world. You smiled slightly. "Peace."

The answer was simple, but somehow, Dean didn't need to ask any follow-ups. He just nodded, taking note of what you said.

"What's your favorite thing about hockey?" you asked.

Dean thought for a second. "The team. Nothing's better than a good team. Sure, the ice is nice, the game is cool, and the winning is amazing, but I'd be nothing out there without my boys. Don't tell them I said that, though."

You giggled, a genuine smile on your face. That was honestly the last thing you expected him to say, especially as a defenseman. "Secret's safe with me, Dean."

"Thanks, sweetheart." He smiled back at you, soft and small like it was the most raw thing he'd ever done. "Favorite place?"

You tilted your head in thought. "I think maybe the creek behind my old house. It's full of nature and peace and I really enjoyed reading out there. Like nothing could get me when I was with the Earth."

Dean smiled. "Hannah tells me you're an art major. Why's that?"

You shrugged. "It's just always drawn me. I get to be creative and speak through what I make. I can be anything, I can do anything, and I think that's pretty beautiful."

A nod from him. "That is pretty awesome."

You giggled. "You're pretty good at the whole 'date' thing."

His smile widened. "Yeah?"

You nodded. "Yeah."

"Well, good. I'm glad it's not miserable for you," he teased, but there was an underline of truth.

You shook your head. "Not at all."

The conversation flowed easily. It was comfortable and nice, like every word each of you said was meant to pass your lips and reach the other's ears. Dean's smile never faded, and neither did yours. He asked every question you'd never expected him of all people to ask.

You asked the ones you wanted to know the most. Things were easy and simple with him, and you were finding yourself a lot less skeptical than you were when the date started. Somehow, someway, it felt like you and him were compatible.

You tried to stay neutral, you tried not to get your hopes up, but it was hard. He was Dean, and he was staring at you like the world was at your feet. It felt unreal, truly. Like this was all some dream you'd wake up from and it'd be over.

But it wasn't.

The food arrived, and you took your time eating. You'd trained yourself in the art of eating slowly, to lessen the image that people automatically had over you. Dean, however, was not a slow eater. Nor did he care.

Nor did he have to.

You took a bite of your pasta, eyeing Dean as he cut into his steak. His thirty-five dollar steak. You honestly couldn't believe he'd pay that, but you should've known better. "So why Briar U?" he asked, taking a bite of his steak.

You raised an eyebrow, swallowing your bite of pasta. "Hm?"

"I mean, why'd you choose it? Hannah's mentioned just how smart you are."

You blushed slightly, shaking your head. "She's dramatic."

"I doubt that."

You giggled. The honest answer was a heavier one. One you weren't sure he really wanted to hear. Despite that doubt, you decided to tell him anyway. Honesty was something you were fond of. "Out of all the colleges I got accepted to, it was the best one that was furthest away."

Dean paused at that, questions in his eyes that you weren't sure he'd ask. "Furthest away from what?" You swallowed softly, like you were scared to answer, but were going to anyway. Dean noticed. "You don't have to answer that. I'm being nosy."

You shook your head, a soft smile on your face. "It's okay, I don't mind." You shrugged, taking a sip of your pink lemonade. "My family, mostly. They're...something. I dunno. It's best if we're on opposite sides of the country."

Dean nodded slowly, not pushing anymore. Even if it was clear he wanted to. "I assume you chose Briar for the hockey program?"

Dean smiled. "Yeah, couldn't really pass up that."

You giggled. "Guess not, huh?"

Dean was halfway done with his steak by the time you got a quarter of your pasta down, and honestly, you were already kind of full. You ate just fine in front of Hannah or by yourself, but right now? The thought of eating the entire dish made you slightly nauseous.

You weren't sure why, probably some deep-rooted problem you weren't putting effort into figuring out.

Dean eyed you for a second, eyes flicking down to your plate. "We can take that to-go, if you want," he said, his voice smooth and soft.

You nodded slightly. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry."

Dean furrowed his brows. "For what?"

You shrugged, chuckling softly. "Just feels like I'm wasting, even though I know I'm not."

He tilted his head. "Even if you did, I wouldn't care. Don't force yourself."

You looked at him, eyes searching his for a moment. "Yeah," you whispered.

Dean put his cutlery down, calling a waitress over for two to-go containers. "You don't have to—"

"No, it's okay. I'm already kind of full and I did promise Logan some steak anyway," he said, a smile on his face like this was no trouble at all.

You smiled back softly, even if you didn't really believe him. The gesture was sweet.

Once your food was in to-go containers and Dean paid for the meal, you were leaving the restaurant. Dean opened your door for you and you got in his car, watching as he rounded it. You let out a small, shaky breath before he got in.

Once he was in and the car was on, he looked at you. "Am I taking you home, or is there anything else you wanna do?" he asked genuinely.

You looked at him. "Honestly? I'd love to keep this going, but I have an assignment to finish unfortunately." You looked at him apologetically, and he nodded.

"No worries, sweetheart. There's always next time." He flashed his award-winning smile at you, and you giggled.

"Oh, so there's going to be a next time?"

"Only if you want there to be, of course."

Dean started down the street. You nodded. "Yeah, I do."

His smile widened, but he didn't say anything. The ride to your house was filled with random music from the radio and the occasional short conversation from the two of you, but it was comforting. Warm and soft like it was right where you were meant to be.

When you pulled up, Dean did what he'd done all night. Got out and opened your door, helping you out of the car and then walking you up to your house. You turned around and looked up at him as you reached your door.

"Thank you for tonight, Dean. Really."

He smiled softly. "Anytime, sweetheart."

You stood on your tip-toes, kissing his cheek softly, before pulling back. Your faces were close now, and you didn't miss the way his eyes glanced at your lips. He didn't make a move, though. "Goodnight," you whispered.

"Goodnight," he whispered back.

You turned around, unlocking your door and walking in, giving him one last wave before closing your door and locking it. You sighed out contently, a small smile on your face that stayed for the rest of the night.