Tessa

By the time Friday night rolled around, Tessa had changed her mind about the dress three separate times, debated whether to wear her hair up or down (ultimately down — loose and a little wild), and checked the mirror so often Moose started giving her suspicious looks.

When the knock came at precisely 7 PM, her heart tried to escape her chest.

She opened the door, breath catching.

Graham Carter stood there, hands in his pockets, wearing a crisp navy button-up and dark jeans that somehow looked effortless and unfairly good.

His gaze swept over her — and for a second, he said nothing.

Just stared.

Tessa fidgeted, smoothing the skirt of her dress.
“Hi,” she said, suddenly shy.

“Hi,” he echoed, voice a little rough.

“You look…” he trailed off, cleared his throat, and tried again.
“You look beautiful, Tessa.”

Her stomach swooped so hard she had to grip the doorframe.

“You clean up okay yourself,” she teased, stepping out and locking her door behind her.

Graham smiled — a real one, not just the small half-smirks he usually gave.

It felt like a victory.

He offered his arm without thinking, and after a tiny beat of hesitation, Tessa slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.

The world tilted just a little.

In the best way.

---

Graham

He had been nervous all day.

He hated being nervous. Hated feeling like he was out of his depth.

But there was no denying it: the second Tessa opened her door, standing there in that stupidly perfect blue dress, smiling at him like he mattered — Graham Carter was absolutely gone.

He barely remembered the drive to the restaurant.

Some small, cozy place Lucy had recommended — not fancy enough to feel stiff, but nice enough to show he cared.

When they were seated, he spent the first few minutes studying the menu like it contained the secrets of the universe.

Tessa saved him, of course.

She laughed softly and said, “You know, you’re allowed to just talk to me.”

Graham looked up, sheepish.
“Right. Talking. I can do that.”

Tessa grinned and leaned in, resting her chin on her hand.
“Tell me something you don’t tell everyone.”

He blinked. “Like what?”

She shrugged, playful. “Anything. Secret hobby? Embarrassing childhood story? Weird favorite food?”

Graham thought about it.

Most people never got past his surface.
Most people didn’t try.

But Tessa was sitting there, open and bright and waiting.

“I used to want to be a carpenter,” he said finally, surprising even himself.

Tessa’s eyes lit up.
“Really?”

He nodded, a little self-conscious.
“My grandfather was one. I liked how…straightforward it was. You measure. You cut. You build something that lasts.”

Tessa smiled so warmly he felt it crack something open inside him.

“That makes so much sense,” she said.

Graham frowned. “Why?”

“Because you’re a builder,” she said simply.
“You just do it with people now. With…trust. With loyalty. You don’t throw things away.”

He stared at her, completely undone.

No one had ever seen him like that before.
Not even Miles.

---

Tessa

Dinner passed in an easy blur after that.

They traded small stories, laughing more than either expected.

Graham, it turned out, hated reality TV but secretly loved documentaries about ancient civilizations.
Tessa confessed she sometimes talked to Moose like he was a roommate.

At one point, when Graham leaned across the table to brush a loose eyelash off her cheek, their hands brushed — and neither moved away.

The restaurant dimmed around them.
The noise blurred.

It was just him and her and the quiet, growing pull between them.

When they walked back to the car, Tessa dared to glance sideways at him.

Graham caught her looking.

He smiled — small and crooked and a little shy — and reached for her hand without hesitation.

Their fingers intertwined like it had been waiting to happen.

Tessa squeezed lightly.

Graham squeezed back.

And somewhere deep inside, Tessa knew:
Whatever this was — this slow, sweet, burning thing — it was real.

And it was only just beginning.