His knee gently touched hers. A second, two. He didn’t pull back. She didn’t pull back either. Now it was officially not a platonic date any longer. How the glimpse of a second, a movement that nobody else in the bar would have even noticed, could be such a game changer. Their eyes fixated on each other. Agreement. She felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness creeping up her spine. Took a sip of wine to avoid the intensity of his gaze.
She wanted him. Badly.
As they walked out of the bar, he put his arm around her. A gesture that she never knew how to return. Put her arm around him as well? No, she liked the feeling of being held by his strong arms, without giving a direct return. Their steps were out of sync. She felt self-conscious.
The subtle balance between being a flirt and being aloof. She had never been good at playing this game. “I need to turn right to go home”, she said. She didn’t want to go home, she wanted him to pull her towards her, kiss her. Say “Don’t leave yet…”. He got her wrong, gazed into her eyes, but couldn’t read her desire from them. The breeze of the approaching romance evaporated. Awkward silence. “Goodbye, get home safely!”