Page 29 of Elevator Pitch

How will I survive the date if everything he’s doing has me ready to bite a pillow and scream?

His music selections are great, but we talk the entire time, which is odd for me because I’m not much of a talker. I take Daya’s advice and guide him into conversations by asking questions. This will give me time to consider my answers, so I’m less likely to blurt shit out and embarrass myself. So far, it’s working.

He takes me to a pizzeria for lunch and I couldn’t be happier. I was nervous when he didn’t ask beforehand what I liked, but he did good. He asks if I had any ‘fun facts’ about myself, which I thought was cute. He mentioned he loves attending weddings. I share that I collect vinyl, and he lights up like he got an idea. He shared that there’s a record store near here if I don’t grow tired of him after the bookstore. Of course I’d like that. Why would I get sick of him? He’s doing amazing, and no strikes so far.

Knock on wood.

He shares that he was born and raised here in Brooklyn, and this restaurant was a childhood favorite. I love that he brought me somewhere meaningful to him. He asks me about growing up in St. Louis, my job, how long I’ve been in New York and how I’m liking it here. The‘Fuck It List’comes up when he asks more about the pole dancing, which I should’ve been preparedfor. I give a quick summary of what it is and that I’m trying to complete thirty tasks by my thirtieth birthday.

“What inspired your ‘Fuck It List?’” he asks.

“I feel like I wasted my twenties with a partner that dimmed my light. I missed a lot of opportunities because I prioritized him and once I left, I had no clue how to be alone. I’ve spent the last two years learning who I am through taking risks and forcing myself out of my comfort zone,” I sigh. The ‘Fuck It List’ encouraged me to stop making excuses and just go for it. I’ve learned that nothing is too big or small if it truly matters to me.”

I notice a tattoo peeking through his neckline, and I ask about it, deciding to ask about them gradually like he does mine. He has flowers that he taught me to pronounce asmugunghwa????1 on his right shoulder and bicep. He informs me it is the national flower of South Korea and can symbolize either eternity or inexhaustible abundance. The conversation flows and we stay far longer than we expected to, but we’re enjoying this time together.

When we head to the bookstore, I am enamored by how pink and adorable this shop is. Greyson is right behind me, holding all the books I want and asking questions as we make our way through the store. He is such a good sport and doesn’t get annoyed by me pointing at every book I’ve read just to tell him that I’ve read it. Instead, he’s fascinated.

He surprised me when he suggested we find a book to read together for the first time, so I made it a mission to find a book with our favorite tropes and a blurb that gave us chills. By the time we ring up our haul, the clerk tells us we picked great selections. I take a few steps away and check my phone when she rings up the final books so that I don’t have to see that total. He wasn’t lying when he said I could have any book I fucking wanted in that store.

He loads the books into his SUV truck and asksif I’m sick of him yet. I’m not, so he takes me to the record store in the neighborhood and we managed to come out with a few gems for a good price too. I argued with him that I wanted to buy my own vinyl, but he refused. Still no strikes.

We take a walk on the Brooklyn Bridge in time for sunset and it’s incredible. I share another fun fact about myself: I love a starry sky and beautiful sunset. Though, since I moved to New York, I don’t have the pleasure of seeing the stars like I did back home.

The ride home is smooth, just like the day had been. It’s even more intense because we had an incredible date, and Greyson is effortlessly sexy. It’s crossed my mind that we should go back to my place and check a thing or two off my list, but I’m perplexed since this is the best date I’ve ever been on and he’s my neighbor. I also wouldn’t mind going out with him again.

We step onto the sixth floor and he’s carrying bags from our shopping hauls in one hand. He’s done that all night, kept a hand free. I figured it was because he wanted to hold my hand, but he hasn’t tried to.

I would let him.

He insisted on walking me to my door, and I’m biting my lip to hide my smile. I’ve been grinning all night, and my cheeks hurt. It’s a vast comparison to any date I’ve ever been on. We walk side-by-side when I look over and find him eyeing me curiously.

“What’s something on the list that you need a partner for? There’s gotta be something ‘safe for work’ on there.”

Oh my god.

“Experience an earth-shattering kiss,” I mumble.

“You know I didn’t hear that. Can you be a little louder or at least whisper in my ear this time?”

We stop in front of my door, and I focus on unlocking it while I gain the courage to repeat myself.

“Experience an earth-shattering kiss,” I say louder. I nearlytumble into my apartment when the door swings open, and he wraps his free hand around my waist, catching me.

Always embarrassing myself in front of him.

He clears his throat and sets me down, dropping the bags in the entryway.

He continues our conversation. “I knew you had something on there that wasn’t nasty. You know nasty doesn’t bother me,” he adds with a wink. “All those dates you’ve been on and not even one kiss, huh?”

I shake my head reluctantly.

“Do you want help with that one?” He licks his lips.

I stare at him incredulously.

“Uh, I was just answering your question.”

“So, you don’t wantmeto help with that goal?”

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