When Aaron showed up looking like a walking daydream and ended the night with a single red rose, I thought I’d met my Prince Charming.
But once he told me why he gave me the rose, I blocked his number and walked away for good.
“We matched!” That was the first thought that popped into my head when Aaron’s face appeared on my phone screen with that little “It’s a Match!” banner.
He was, quite honestly, stunning. He had broad shoulders, a clean-cut beard, and eyes that made me think of warm honey dripping over fresh bread. He had a sharp, classic style like he knew how to tie a Windsor knot without a YouTube tutorial.
His bio wasn’t half bad either: “Looking for something real.
Lover of books, coffee, and bad puns.”
And his messages? Chef’s kiss.
He asked thoughtful questions — not just the basic “So what do you do for fun?” fluff most guys open with. No, Aaron remembered things.
It was like talking to someone who actually listened, and that alone felt like a novelty.
One night, in the middle of a conversation about childhood nostalgia, I casually mentioned that my favorite story growing up was Beauty and the Beast.
Instead of the usual “Oh, that’s cute” response, Aaron texted back, “No way, that was my favorite too! Though I gotta admit, I’ve only seen the Disney version.”
I smiled so hard my cheeks ached. “That counts,” I replied.
“It’s still the same story.”
“Exactly,” he shot back. “A misunderstood guy with anger issues, a girl who sees the good in him, and they fall in love. Classic.”
I stared at the screen, feeling a warmth in my chest that I wasn’t ready to admit out loud.
“You really get it,” I typed, and for the first time in ages, I meant it.
After a week of near-constant texting — morning, lunch breaks, random “saw this and thought of you” memes — he finally asked me to dinner.
“I know a spot you’ll love,” he said, sending an address for an upscale Italian place downtown.
I Googled it and was instantly hit with images of white tablecloths, glowing candlelight, and decor that perfectly united old-school Italian charm with modern flair.
My eyebrows shot up.
I texted back, “Ooh, fancy.
Should I bring a ball gown?”
His reply was instant. “Only if you plan on dancing with a beast.”
I laughed so hard I snorted, alone in my kitchen, already imagining how I’d tell my best friend about this.
The restaurant was even more magical in person. Warm light flickered off glossy wine glasses.
The faint hum of violins floated through the air, and the smell — rich garlic, fresh basil, and baked bread — wrapped around me like a hug.
I stepped inside, scanning for Aaron, and there he was.
He stood when he saw me, and my heart did this embarrassing little flip. The man was even better looking in person. He wore a sharp charcoal suit and a crisp white shirt.
He wasn’t wearing a tie, but somehow he still looked polished.
As I walked over, he smiled, showing teeth so perfect I almost wanted to ask for his dentist’s number. And that cologne when he leaned in to hug me briefly? I couldn’t name it, but it smelled amazing.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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