I blink, stunned that he’s actually serious about this proposal. “Does this mean you’re my dating coach?”
“If you want me to be,” he says, studying my face. “Though I have to ask what exactly you think you need to practice—because from where I’m standing, you seem to have the basics covered.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Are you kidding? I can barely string two coherent sentences together. Case in point: ‘Hi-ho’ was my greeting to you. No one wants to date the Seven Dwarfs.”
He tilts his head, considering this. “I don’t know. Snow White seemed pretty happy with them. And for the record, your ‘Hi-ho’ was actually kind of cute.”
“Well, I feel like I’ve forgotten how to make conversation that doesn’t revolve around cupcake orders,” I admit. “Like, what am I supposed to say on a real date? Talk about frosting techniques, followed by my dog’s digestive issues?”
“Okay, I can see how that might be problematic,” he says, holding back a laugh. “But I think you’re underestimating yourself.”
“Easy for you to say. You probably have women lining up to go out with you.”
“Not really,” he says quietly, before looking back at me. “You want to know what dating a good man looks like? I could show you.”
My pulse skips a beat. “Show me how?”
“Well, we’re alone. We’ve got time now.” He pauses. “What ifI gave you a quick demonstration, just so you know what to expect?”
Something flutters in my stomach. “A demonstration?”
“Just the basics. How a guy should treat you, what good conversation feels like, how to read the signals. Think of it as a preview of coming attractions.”
This is definitely not what my friends had in mind when they said to flirt with Lucian.
Or maybe it is.
But there’s something like actual concern in his expression that makes me want to agree to this. It might be helpful to know what going on a date with Lucian would be like before I decide if it’s too risky.
“Okay,” I say before I think better of it. “Show me.”
He catches my gaze while my heart dives off a cliff. The atmosphere seems to shift in the room, like suddenly we’ve gone from theoretical to practical. Then he circles around me so that my back is facing the door.
“If this were a date,” he says, “the first thing I’d do is make sure you felt comfortable. That starts with eye contact.”
His gaze remains on mine, never wavering, and something about it feels more intimate than if he were touching me. “Most people are afraid to really look at someone, but eye contact is everything. It shows you’re present, that you’re interested in the person, not just waiting for your turn to talk.”
I find myself caught in his impossibly blue eyes, my heart beating wildly in my chest. I haven’t felt this jittery since my first kiss in high school. And honestly? This is ten times better.
“See?” he says softly. “You’re not looking away. That tells me you’re brave. That you’re willing to be seen. Dating isn’t just about talking. It’s about learning to be comfortable in silence, to hold someone’s gaze without looking away.”
I don’t break eye contact, even as heat creeps up my neck.
“Most people get nervous,” he continues. “But if you canhold someone’s gaze like this…” He takes a small step closer. “It creates connection.Trust.”
“And then?”
“Then, if the moment feels right…” He reaches toward me, his fingers brushing mine. “Small touches. Like this.”
I almost can’t breathe as he gently takes one of my hands.
“Most people rush through moments like these,” he says, his voice low. “But the small touches matter. They tell you everything.”
“Like what?”
“Like whether someone’s patient or impulsive.” His thumb starts stroking slowly over my skin. “Or whether they’re paying attention to how you respond.”
I swallow hard, failing to hide that I’m totally entranced by this. He’s only holding my hand and yet it feels like so much more.
