We made plans for the next night, which we now consider our actual first date: dinner at a different neighborhood restaurant, which I suggested, followed by champagne by the pool of a boutique hotel, which he suggested. It was lovely, and a little awkward, and at the end of the night, I hugged him. He thought about kissing me, a few times, but resisted.
We made a date for Wednesday, which I had to cancel with a stomach virus. He’d offered to bring me things, advised me and then harassed me into taking better care of myself, etc.
When I was feeling better on Friday, he was heading out of town for a college football game. And I actually missed him. In part, because I was bore and stir crazy, but we’d been talking a lot and I was beginning to like him. I thought to myself, had he been in town, we’d have gone back to the wine bar on Friday night, and I would have kissed him.
He checks in with me daily, so he checked in after he arrived to let me know he’d made it down and then the next morning to see how I was feeling etc. And several times through the day. Not overly, but present.
I asked him around 6 when he was coming back and he surprised me by saying he’d be back at 11 that night. He asked if I wanted his friend to drop him at my place because he really wanted to see me, maybe hang out, watch a movie, but, as we’d specifically discussed, no sex. I still declined, as I’d been ill and my place was messier than normal, and I was not confident that if I spent all night with him in my bed, that I would not end up starting a physical relationship with him before I was ready.
We discussed it, and I declined telling him I wanted to exercise with him in the morning, then hit brunch, to which he readily agreed. He called me once he got home and we again discussed whether he should come over. Frankly, my resistance was waning. By this point, I knew I liked him. Plus, I’d been sick in bed for days and the idea of someone’s whose arms I could lie in, well, it sounded great.
But again, I resisted. Instead we talked. About everything. We talked until nearly 2 am, which was silly as we were meeting at 930. I ended up injured and couldn’t go, which leads to what I consider our first real date — during which (1) I was completely bitchy and awful, and he handled it beautifully; (2) we kissed for the first time, which was electric; (3) we had three meals and wandered around for 12 hours so we could spend quality time together; and (4) we spent so much time kissing at his house before we went to dinner that I have a scrape on my chin and the tip of my nose.