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He barks in response before sprinting after her.

Later that night, I’m standing outside a trendy restaurant dressed in a button-down and dress pants. Waiting for a blind date to arrive is not how I wanted to spend my evening, but here I am. Kat's been bugging me about meeting one of her clients, believing we'd hit it off, and I'd been avoiding the topic. But after holding Mia's lacy bra in my hand, something shifted in me. Especially knowing she was planning to wear it for someone else.

If Mia is being serious about finding someone special, someone who isn't me, then I need to let go of whatever pipe dream I have surrounding her. And the only way to do that is to start getting out there myself.

Jasmine had jumped at the opportunity to go out tonight. She'd replied to Katrina's message within mere minutes, and suddenly I had a date and a new contact in my phone.

I spent any free time I had during the day texting her, trying to get to know her even a little before sitting across the table from one another. She didn't budge, too interested in finding out where we were going and what she should wear.

I hate dates like this, where they require too much effort. I'd much rather go out to a casual place, dressed in an outfit that doesn’t require the world's most uncomfortable shoes and have a great time then feel like I’m putting on a performance.

A woman in a well-fitted gray dress that would look more at home in a courtroom than on a date approaches me. Which made sense, considering all Kat told me was that she's a lawyer and might be coming straight from work.

Katrina hadn't been lying about how beautiful Jasmine was. But she's a beautiful woman in a conventional way; the kind of beautiful a lot of people attribute to athletes. Her beauty pales into comparison to the one person I'm trying to forget.

I give her a warm, charming smile as she approaches. "You must be Jasmine."

Her smile is tight, but polite. "Are you Roman?"

My hand falters mid-shake as the name registers, but I quickly recover. "It's Ronan, actually."

She tilts her head in confusion. "What is?"

"My name." I frown. "My name is Ronan, not Roman."

"Oh, I'm sorry." She laughs, flicking her long caramel hair over her shoulder. "I'm horrible with names."

A trait that makes me question her ability as a lawyer, but whatever. "Should we get our table?"

She nods and then waits with an arched eyebrow until I move to pull the door open for her and lead her up to the hostess stand. "Hi, I have a reservation under O'Brien."

The hostess glances over the list before offering me a bright smile. "Right this way, Mr. O'Brien."

Neither Jasmine nor I say anything on our way to the table, which is on the large patio off the back of the restaurant. It's a warm, but beautiful night. Small fire pits are scattered throughout the patio for cooler nights, but string lights with Edison bulbs create a warm atmosphere, especially when paired with the small lanterns adorning each table.

It's simple, but welcoming, and creates the perfect atmosphere for a first date. As soon as Jasmine is situated across from me, though, I conclude she doesn't agree.

"Is this all right with you?"

Startled, she looks up, and gives me another tight smile. "Fine."

"I don't mean to push, but I'm not sure I believe you?"

She shakes her head. "It's fine, I promise. I just don't like eating outside that much because outside has bugs."

"Oh, I should have asked. I love eating outside." Her grimace tells me this bit of information isn't something she wants to hear. "I can see if they're able to move us inside?"

"I said it's fine, Roman," she bites out and picks up her menu.

Sighing to myself, I ignore the name, and do the same.

Silence settles around us while we both look over the menu. So much silence that we're both ready to order when our server approaches. She orders the salmon and an expensive glass of wine, while I order a steak and a local beer.

"I have to say, you're not what I expected when Katrina told me you're an Olympian."

Huh. I haven't heard that one before, and I'm not sure what it's supposed to mean.

"Well, I am," I reply. "I went in 2012 and 2016. I swam professionally from the time I graduated from college until I retired at the beginning of 2018."