Tinley jumps as a voice speaks to her from across the table. She didn’t even hear the chair move or her new date sit down.

“Do you have a hand I can shake? I promise not to bite you. I’m not a vampire, so I’m not into that kind of thing.”

That’s not the kind of response she was expecting in the least. Maybe this date will be a little fun after all. Playing along, she reaches her hand across the table, feeling for his. “Not a vampire, huh? That’s too bad—I hear that can be kind of hot.”

Just as their fingertips touch, he rips his hand away from hers and exclaims, “Oh no! Not in the slightest. It’s very dangerous. I almost lost a friend to a vampire once. I was able to give him a blood transfusion and he survived, though just barely. It’s the females you need to worry about. They’re brutal.”

What the fuck? Do normal people not come to this kind of thing? Of course not, Tinley. Who in their right mind would willingly go to something called Dating in the Dark? The answer is nobody would, and she’s stuck here with those nobodies for at least another thirty minutes.

All communication stops as the waiter brings by their main course. She doesn’t pay attention to a word he says about what they’re eating because her mind can’t get off the fact that this guy thinks vampires are real. Of course, she’s wondered what life would be like if supernatural creatures were real and that world would have to include Dean and Sam, but she’s never for one minute thought that was reality. They’re just made-up stories.

“So, what species are you?”

She chokes as she takes a small sip of her wine. Maybe she needs to switch to water and stop drinking the wine because she obviously heard him wrong. Species—what kind of question is that? She clears her throat after a few too many coughs and croaks out, “Um, human?”

“Hm…a humanoid…how…predictable.” He takes long pauses in between his words and drags them all out. It almost sounds like he’s having trouble breathing, but maybe that’s just how he talks? He’s either longwinded or only speaks in staccato.

Predictable? What part of any of this is predictable? It’s hard to imagine that anything would shock this guy at this point. “I’m sorry?”

“No need to be sorry—you can’t change what you are. I shouldn’t have expected much coming to this thing, but you’re my third date and only humanoids so far. I think I’m going about this whole dating thing the wrong way. I just don’t know where to meet other people, you know?”

At this point, the only obvious conclusion is that she needs to humor this guy; at least then she’ll have a good story to tell her sister and Dakota. They’ll never believe she went on a date with a guy who thinks he’s an alien. “So, if you aren’t a human, what are you?”

“My people…call themselves…the Vikkulas. I come from…the planet…Eplora.”

Wow, this guy is actually serious. Like full-blown believes every word that he’s saying kind of crazy. “I’ve never heard of that before. Is it far away? How did you get here?”

“Well…if I told you…any of that…I’d have to…kill you. Then they’d know…I was here.”

She starts to laugh, but he interrupts her.

“I’m serious. You can’t tell anyone what I’ve told you. If anyone found out, it would be dangerous for both of us. The consequences would be dire, and my whole planet and race would be at risk.”

“Then why did you just tell me all that? We don’t even know each other.”

The bell rings signaling the end of their date, and Tinley is almost sad to see this one go. He’s batshit crazy, that’s for sure, but the story he was telling was just so fascinating, and she could tell he believed every word coming out of his mouth. How else do you explain someone who has a species and planet name at the ready? Maybe he’s a writer or an actor and was testing out a storyline? Either way, she could never be that creative.

As the guys get up and start shuffling around the room again, her friend the waiter stops by to clear their dinner plates, and she only just now realizes she didn’t even touch a bite of whatever was on there. So much for that. “So, how did date number three go?”

“Alien.”

There’s a long pause as he stops clearing away the dishes and coughs. “Come again?”

That is the normal reaction to this situation: complete and utter shock mixed with some confusion. She almost wishes she could follow him around to all of his dates and hear their reactions. It’s not every day you go on a date with an alien. Now that would be some entertainment right there.

“The guy thought he was an alien, gave me this whole spiel about keeping his secret because the government would come after him and me. Where do these people even come from?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Who knows, maybe the next guy will be a winner, or maybe you’ll consider letting me take you out sometime.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but no offense, I don’t think I want to see anyone from tonight a second time. This whole night has been a giant disaster.”

“Hey, I get it, but sometimes you just need to find a silver lining. So, in case you change your mind, I’m leaving a napkin here with my phone number on it. No pressure.”

He walks away and she feels around the table for the napkin. After a split-second decision, she shoves it into her purse. Who knows, maybe she’ll get a wild hair and decide to text the guy. More than likely it’ll end up in the trash as soon as she gets home, but it doesn’t hurt to take it just in case she changes her mind, and now she’s ready for her last date of the evening.

Bring it on.