Page 20 of What Broke First
Her date was named Carter. He was the brother of her coworker’s husband or something equally low-risk. He was tall, decent-looking in a non-threatening way, and laughed like he wasn’t still mourning his hairline. He opened doors, listened more than he talked, and ordered the wine without flexing about his palate.
“This is... not terrible,” Sarah said, her glass halfway to her lips.
Carter glanced around the dimly lit bistro, then back at her. “First time here. I figured we could try it together. Shared adventure, right?”
She raised a brow. “Oh? You don’t bring all your dates here?”
He grinned. “Honestly? Most of my dates don’t involve restaurants.”
Sarah blinked, then laughed. “Wow. So why am I the lucky one who gets the wining and dining?”
Carter leaned back in his chair, easy and unashamed. “Something told me you’d need a little warming up before the wild night.”
She laughed harder than she expected to. “You’re not wrong. I actually had no idea dating apps were basically just hook-up apps until I was knee-deep in unsolicited shirtless mirror pics.”
“Guilty,” Carter said, holding up his hands. “I’ve used them that way.”
“Well, you realize hooking up with me isn’t in your future, right?” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.
“Never say never,” he replied, not smug, just honest. She tilted her head, impressed despite herself. “I’ve got to admit, I appreciate the transparency.”
“Too many guys try to fake their way into the long game. I don’t see the point. If I want a relationship, I say it. If I just want to have fun, I say that too. No one deserves to be misled.”
Sarah nodded slowly. “That might be the most attractive thing I’ve heard in months.”
He smiled, clearly pleased. “Well, at least I’m not married and still out here trying to hook up. Low bar, but I’ll take the win.”
“Oh, trust me, the bar is in the basement. Some of these men out here are practically tunneling.”
Carter laughed. “I’ve met a few of those women, too.”
Sarah sipped her wine and looked at him again. He wasn’t trying to be charming. He wasn’t pretending to be someone he wasn’t. There was no sales pitch, no curated persona. Just a guy being honest, and not in that manipulative, performative way some men weaponized. Just honest.
It wasn’t fireworks. It was a functioning adult conversation. And right now, that felt revolutionary.
He looked at her. “So... is the night going to end with you pretending you lost my number?”
She smirked. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“Fair. I’d ghost me too, just for the sport of it.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet here we are. Still not terrible.”
That made her smile. For the first time in a long time, it wasn’t forced.
After dinner, they stepped out into the cool night air. The buzz of the restaurant faded behind them, replaced by the low hum of streetlights and the rumble of passing cars.
Sarah felt the wine settle in her limbs, just enough to loosen the edge she hadn’t realized she’d been gripping all day.
Carter held the door for her again, and they fell into step down the sidewalk.
“You know,” he said, hands in his pockets, “I wasn’t sure how tonight would go. I figured you might bail.”
Sarah glanced at him. “Oh, I seriously considered it. Right up until I put on lipstick. Then I felt obligated.”
He grinned. “Lipstick is powerful. Almost as powerful as committing to real pants on a weeknight.”
