Maybe

Chapter 32 Blind Date

I had been sitting there for a while, pretending to read the menu while actually scanning the room. That's when I saw it—a familiar face just across the room. I squinted, trying to get a clearer look without looking like a total creep, but my date arrived.

"Sorry if I kept you waiting," he said, sliding into the chair across from me. His youthful, cheerful demeanor instantly put me at ease—okay, maybe not at ease, but at least I wasn't plotting my escape anymore. I managed a small smile. 

Okay, Nina, let's just get through this. How bad could it be?

"You must be Nina?" he asked.

"Yes, and you are?" I replied, doing my best to sound interested.

He chuckled softly. "I'm Owen Smith. Nice to meet you."

I bit my lip, deciding that honesty might be the best policy. "Sorry, I don't know much about you. I wasn't really interested in this date," I blurted out, cringing internally at my lack of filter.

To my surprise, he laughed again, completely unfazed. "I promise I won't waste your time. You might even enjoy it."

Well, he's optimistic, I thought as he began chatting with the waiter about the menu. I took the opportunity to discreetly glance around the restaurant again, determined to solve the mystery of that familiar face. And then... there he was. 

Oh, no. No, no, no, no!

It was Ethan. Of all places, of all moments... He looked even more striking than I remembered—tall, impeccably dressed in a suit that fit him like a second skin, with that same annoyingly perfect smile and those deep eyes lovely and dark that once made me lose my train of thought mid-sentence. But something was different, it was a sign of maturity... or maybe it was because I had spent months forgetting his perfect stupid face and hadn't seen him.

A flood of memories hit me like a ton of bricks. Our moments together, his laughter, that one time we almost burned down my kitchen trying to make pasta... Ugh, stop it! Not now!

Panic set in, and I could feel my palms getting sweaty. 

Okay, Nina, stay calm. Just breathe.

"Nina?" Owen's voice broke through my spiraling thoughts.

"What? Oh, sorry," I mumbled, forcing a smile. But my eyes darted back to Ethan, who was now looking in my direction.

I flinched and quickly glanced away, pretending to be deeply fascinated by... the tables? 

No, seriously! What do I do now? He's really here!

"Nina, are you okay?" His voice cut through my internal crisis.

"Y-yeah?" I squeaked. Smooth. Very smooth.

He didn't look convinced. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, it is," I lied, trying to sound casual, like I wasn't mentally calculating the quickest escape route. 

Meanwhile, Owen was chatting away about his grandma and Christmas plans, and I nodded like a bobblehead. 

Just keep nodding, Nina. Nodding is safe. Nodding is neutral. 

I hoped he wouldn't recognize me, even though a voice in my head kept nudging, 'Just call him.' Yeah, right. Call him and what? Ask if he remembers that time I spilt coffee all over his new white shirt?

His eyes flicked back to me, and a shiver ran down my spine. Oh no, why are you looking at me like that? look away! I averted my gaze, pretending to be intensely interested in... a lamppost? 

Wow, I'm really killing it with the casual act today.

"You seem a bit distant, Nina," Owen persisted, his tone getting more worried.

Stop saying my name like that. "No, I'm fine," I said quickly, trying to sound like a sane, normal human being.

"Oh, I wanted to show you something. It's in my hotel room. Would you like to come with me?"

No, don't do this. you know what that means. My brain was screaming at me, but what came out of my mouth? "I'd love to." 

I trailed after him like a confused puppy, all the while mentally kicking myself. Great, to avoid Ethan, now I'm following a stranger. Well done..

He unlocked the door, and we stepped inside. Immediately, a weird vibe settled over me. As he rummaged through his bag, I took a few steps deeper into the room. Then I saw it—the handcuffs, the blindfolds, the... oh my god, was that a vibrator?

I spun around, heart pounding, only to crash straight into his chest.

Panic seized me. Oh, fantastic. 

"Like what you see?"

I turned around only to see Owen Standing there with a mischievous grin.

Fuck.

I shoved him away and tried to make a run for it, but he caught my hand and yanked me back against him. My back slammed into his chest, and I nearly gagged at the unwelcome proximity.

"You're disgusting! Let go of me!" I shouted, hoping that maybe the sheer force of my disgust could somehow make him spontaneously combust.

"But everyone likes me, though," he replied with a smirk. 

I bit down hard on his hand without a second thought, my teeth sinking into his skin like I was sampling a particularly terrible snack. He let out a yelp, and I kneed him where it hurt—right in his fragile ego. Okay, maybe a little lower than that. He doubled over in pain, and I took the chance to dash for the door, cursing every single bad decision that had led me here.

Locked. Of course, it was locked. Because why wouldn't the universe throw me one more curveball today? I scanned the floor frantically, spotting a key glinting a few feet away. I lunged for it, my fingers fumbling with the lock as if I'd suddenly forgotten how to function under pressure.

Just as I turned the key, he grabbed me from behind, slapping a white handkerchief over my mouth. A sickly sweet scent filled my nose, and alarm bells started ringing in my head. I had about 8 to 9 minutes before this knocked me out—thanks to all those detective dramas I'd binge-watched.

I slammed my elbow into his ribs with all the strength I could muster. "You seriously need to get a hobby," I muttered, breaking free. I bolted down the hallway, heart racing. The hallway stretched out endlessly, empty and silent. Perfect. 

His hand latched onto mine again, his grip tightening painfully. "You're not getting away from me, bitch!" he snarled.

He pressed the handkerchief against my mouth again, and I felt a wave of dizziness. My limbs felt like they were turning to jelly, but I forced myself to stay upright. I could hear his triumphant breathing, far too close for comfort. Just when I thought it was game over, someone landed a punch squarely on his face. Or at least, I assumed it was his face. 

Everything started to blur, but I stubbornly kept my feet moving. The last thing I felt before darkness took over was a pair of warm, strong arms catching me, holding me gently. Well, this wasn't quite the rescue I'd pictured, but I'd take it.