The night air was freezing cold. That was El Paso for you. Boiling hot during the day, but when night came the cold desert winds were harsh and brutal.

  “Here,” Tony took off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. I blushed but accepted it gratefully, “You wait here out of the wind, I'll bring the car around.”

  “Oh, Tony!” My heart fluttered. That was so sweet. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah,” he smiled, “So, did this date live up to your expectations?”

  “Yeah,” I sighed, “I almost wish it didn't have to end just yet.”

  “Hmm,” Tony said thoughtfully, “Okay, I’m gonna get the car. Won't be long.”

  He took out his phone and walked off into the dark parking lot. I huddled up against the wall, clutching my tote and pulling Tony’s jacket tighter around me. It was still warm from his body heat, and it smelled like him…

  I almost kissed him.

  I seriously almost kissed him, back at the bowling ne, when he was pressed up against me. If he had gone for a kiss, I would've let him. And there had been easily five more times since then, through the rest of our second game, when he was helping me change my shoes again, just now when he gave me his jacket, that I would have let him kiss me again.

  It was just the heat of the moment, that was all. It had been such a weird night, full of so many new experiences. Nobody had ever treated me like Tony had, so gentle and at the same time so commanding. Nobody had ever complimented my ass, or paid for my drinks, or taken me on a date! Of course I was getting worked up. If it was a girl treating me like this, I would probably have made out with her already.

  But then, if it was a girl, she wouldn’t be treating me like this. If I was the man in the retionship, it would be my job to treat her so nicely, to take the lead and order drinks and compliment her ass. I sighed. Why did being a guy have to be so hard? How did Tony make it look so effortless?

  I wasn’t going to figure it out tonight. At least I got to experience one date the fun way. Hopefully I would get to do one the normal way soon. That would be better. Somehow.

  I pulled my phone out of my tote to pass the time. I had a new message from Gigi, filling up the entire lockscreen.

  [OK YES EM BUT THE TINT IS LIKE THE SAME COLOR AS YOUR LIPS ANYWAY! SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY BTW I FORGOT I HAD AN ESSAY DUE TONIGHT RIP. HOW’S YOUR DATE? CUTE PHOTO!]

  I shook my head ruefully and typed out a few messages in reply, trying to sort out my emotions.

  [The date is… confusing. I know it's just a friend thing, but sometimes it seems like he’s genuinely into me. He said I was turning him on, but I know I'm not his type, bc he only likes big strong guys.]

  I sighed. It shouldn't bother me that I wasn't Tony's type, but it was just another reminder of my inadequacy.

  [And the photo wasn't my idea, by the way. Tony kind of insisted on it. He does a lot of stuff like that, lol. Like he ordered dinner for me, and he grabbed my arm to show me how to bowl. It's kind of funny bc he said girls don't like it when he takes charge, but]

  I stopped, a bunch of pieces suddenly clicking together in my mind.

  [Oh my god Gigi, he's treating me like a girl.]

  I heard a beep and shoved my phone back in my tote. Tony pulled the car over and got out to open my door for me. I blushed and hurried over, my heels clicking against the asphalt again.

  He was treating me like a girl! I totally wasn't his type as a guy, but he kept calling me cute, and complimenting my butt, and I was wearing this outfit and make-up and everything, and he had said he liked girls who were smaller than him! My face was burning again. Was I really so pathetic as a man that Tony decided it made more sense to treat me like a girl?

  “Hey Emmy,” Tony smiled. He held out his hand to help me into the car and I shamefully accepted. He buckled me in and closed the door.

  Tony wouldn't do that on purpose, I rationalized. He wasn't judgy like that. He was too nice. But that honestly made it even worse. He had mentioned that sometimes he could be controlling without even realising it. Subconsciously, he had seen me, weak and feminine little Emmy Garcia, and his brain had activated his protective instincts.

  It should have been humiliating. I should have hated it.

  Why didn't I hate it?

  Tony’s door smmed shut and I jumped.

  “So,” Tony grinned, “Before I take you home, there's something I want to show you.”

  He started driving and I melted a little, at the way he had just made the decision without asking, without even considering that he would need to ask. And he didn't, I realized. I trusted him, and more importantly, I liked when he took control. Most girls don't like being bossed around, he said. But I did.

  Tony nodded to the aux cord, “You wanna put some music on? You always pick great songs at the cafe.”

  “Should I?” I asked timidly, testing him.

  “Yeah, py something nice for me,” Tony said casually. He turned a corner, his strong hands moving confidently on the steering wheel. I bit my lip and queued up some music. I clipped my phone into the phone mount on his dashboard and fretted with my hands.

  So weird. So funny. Silly Tony, treating me like a girl, like a soft submissive girl, when I obviously was not one of those at all. Just because of my height, and the way I was dressed, and the fact that I had let slip several times that I liked being treated that way.

  There was a war going on in my head, part of me screaming that this was sick and wrong and I should tell Tony off and storm out like a man, and another part telling me to give in, to let Tony take the lead and treat me however he wanted. I just stayed quiet, watching Tony as he drove. Now and then he would gnce over to me with a smile, and I would smile back. There was nothing wrong with smiling back.

  “Here we are,” Tony said, pulling into the driveway of a rustic little house. He turned down the music. “So, I was thinking–”

  There was a loud ding and a text alert popped up on my lockscreen.

  [OH, WOW.]

  It was a new message from Gigi. I stared at my phone in horror. Another ding.

  [THAT’S A LOT TO UNPACK, EM.]

  I should've grabbed my phone. I should've pulled it away before Tony saw whatever she said next. But instead I just sat there, frozen.

  Another ding.

  [DO YOU LIKE IT WHEN HE TREATS YOU LIKE A GIRL?]

  My blood ran cold. I closed my eyes. It didn't matter what else Gigi said. That would do it.

  “Oh, fuck,” Tony said, “Oh fuck, Emmy. Emmett!”

  “It's okay!” I said quickly. I didn't want him to start feeling guilty because of my own stupid issues. “That was just something dumb I told her, I know you weren't really–”

  “No, you're right, I totally was,” Tony groaned, “Fuck, dude, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. It's just you're so small and cute, and you're not like the other guys I've been with, and, fuck, I guess some wires just got crossed in my head or something…”

  He slumped in his seat, looking pained, and I realized suddenly that Tony had been struggling just as much as me tonight.

  “Is that so bad?” I said quietly.

  Tony stopped, “What?”

  “W-well…” my voice was shaky, and so were my hands, but I felt like I had to say something, if not now then maybe never, and it all just came flooding out, “Everybody has these rules, these expectations, about how we’re supposed to act, and who we’re supposed to be, and how we’re supposed to treat each other. A-and, maybe they're wrong, you know? I spent this whole night worrying, trying to act like a good man, or a good date, or, or a good bowler,” I blushed, ““And my grandma wants me to be this perfect grandson, and, and maybe I'm not meant to be any of those things?”

  “You're a great date, Emmy,” Tony said softly, then winced, “Fuck. Emmett, sorry.”

  “Emmy’s okay,” I said.

  “Yeah?” said Tony, “I mean… do you prefer it? Or do you prefer Emmett?”

  I knew which one I preferred, and it wasn't even close. But sitting there in Tony’s passenger seat, looking up at his beautiful, conflicted face, there was another answer I wanted to give.

  “Whatever you want,” I said softly.

  Tony looked at me, his soulful eyes searching me intently, for a long, long moment. He still looked conflicted, but finally he must have made up his mind, and he smirked a little, and my heart raced, and then he leaned in and kissed me.

  His lips were so hot, so hot they made me gasp, so hot they gave me goosebumps, so hot I should have been scared. But I wasn't. Tony kissed me so gently, so carefully, like he didn't want to bruise me, like he knew how powerful and dangerous his kisses were and he wanted to make sure I would survive. I whimpered against his lips, cooed as he put his hand on my cheek and stroked me softly with his thumb, accepted his kisses passively, eagerly, for as long as he wanted.

  I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe Tony Pérez was kissing me. The man I had envied for so long, the man I had, I realized now, absolutely been crushing on for so long, had me in the palm of his hand, and he was holding me like I was so precious, like I was this perfect special beautiful thing, and he was so handsome and strong and kind and amazing and, god, he was a really good kisser.

  Finally Tony drew back and smiled at me, warm and caring but with a burning undercurrent of lust.

  “You really are cute, Emmy,” he said, “You make a really cute girl.”

  I beamed back at him and he grinned.

  “I've been wanting to do that all n–” he began, but by then I had unbuckled my seatbelt and scrambled onto his p to kiss him again.