One steamy summer night and one giant craving for something I had only dreamt about had me and one of my best buds and teammate heading out for a fancy dinner.

It was almost the end of summer in Gainesville, Florida. School would start back up in a month or so. Ronnie and I had stuck around in town for the summer to teach ‘Soccer Tots’, a soccer league for toddlers.

Almost everyone we knew on our team had taken off for exciting summer vacations on the beach or in Europe, but Ronnie and I had committed to our soccer playing tots and their parents to keep teaching over the summer.

We weren’t in Ibiza like half of our soccer mates were, but we were going to have a properly luxuriant meal at a famous steakhouse anyway.

The professor of my biology class, Dr. Dupree’s praises of Jose Fontaine's steakhouse had piqued my interest in checking the restaurant named El Buey out.

The restaurant had an ambiance that rivaled some of the best in the country. I had ordered a premium beef cutlet called a chuletón.

Ronnie had ordered a sirloin steak. He wasn’t quite the steak aficionado I was. But when our food arrived, both of us were excited to taste the premium meats. “What do you think? Incredible, right?” Ronnie asked, savoring the piece of steak he bit off his fork.

Weighing how I actually felt about the bite I took, I had to admit it wasn’t what I’d expected, but it wasn’t terrible either, “It’s good.”

With one raised brow, he grinned at me. “Good? Just Good? Not great? Not spectacular?”

I should’ve expected him to look at me that way. After all, I had gone on and on about the place. “I’ve never had anything like it,” I said, looking at my steak. It was just the tiniest bit over-cooked in my opinion. And I had ordered it a different way. “But, I ordered medium rare.”

Without missing a beat, he shoved another piece of meat into his mouth. “You thinking about complaining?”

“Ronnie, man, if we were at the normal chain restaurants we usually go to, then it wouldn’t be a big deal, but…” I leaned in close and whispered, as I didn’t want anyone to hear me whining about the amount this steak was going to cost me. “This steak will cost me ninety dollars.”

“What?” Ronnie nearly choked on his Maronesa. “I just ordered the sirloin. It’s twenty bucks and ridiculously delicious.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I grew up on Argentinian beef. I wanted to get the premium, the very best this place has to offer. I love steak. Great steak. And that’s why I splurged this one time.”

Ronnie stabbed a fork into a slice of my steak. “Sorry, but I’ve got to see what a ninety-dollar steak tastes like.”

“Help yourself,” I said, stabbing my fork into his Maronesa. It was fantastically flavorful with a complex cured taste.

Ronnie chewed my chuletón slowly closing his eyes in awe. “Dude, that is so good.”

It was good. That was a given. But it wasn't cooked to what I had asked for. "It is, but is it medium rare?"

He rolled his eyes then admitted, “No, sir. It is not.”

Our waitress, a tall blonde girl with oversize black frame glasses, stopped at our table, a smile on her face, a hand on her round hip. “How is everything?”

My steak was good. I could have just let it go, but I felt like I had to let her know I had ordered it differently, “I only have one minor complaint, I ordered medium rare. Not medium well, which this is. But this is great. Delicious. Just a bit overcooked for me.”

The waitress’s face fell. She pulled out a tiny notebook from her pocket quickly flipping through the pages. Then her hand went to cover her gaping mouth. “Oh my god. I misread my handwriting. I distinctly remember you ordering medium rare, but I must have told the kitchen medium well when I read my terrible handwriting.” She flashed me her messy miniature script. Indeed it was difficult to decipher.

Tears began to gather in the corners of her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I feel terrible. I’ll be right back.” She lifted my plate with a shaky hand and turned to leave.

Guilt rose in my chest. The steak was medium well, but it was still magnificent. I reached for her wrist, stopping her from retrieving my plate. “That’s okay. That won’t be necessary. It’s delicious regardless.”

Her eyes shone with relief momentarily, but then she said, “No. I remember you saying medium rare. I read my handwriting wrong. You shouldn’t have to pay for a meal you didn’t order.”

She reached for my plate again, but I stopped her once more. “Please. No. It’s perfectly okay. I’m enjoying my meal.”

“I’m so sorry for the mix-up,” she apologized again then hurried to the kitchen.

Ronnie speared another piece of my steak with his fork. “You made our waitress cry, you big ol’ meanie.”

He was right. But she wasn't the first girl I'd made cry. Seeing tears pour down reddened cheeks as I broke one heart after another had me kind of immune to their power. "She'll be fine. You'd be surprised what a girl can get over."

My eyes caught sight of a woman coming back out of the door our waitress had gone into. Her eyes were on me as she headed my way. She had on a black chef coat and black pants. The dark clothing along with her dark hair made her big green eyes pop. Her lashes were long and thick, giving her a Disney princess, doe-eyed look.

She’s hands down, the most authentically beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

I stared at her full lips as they parted and a sweet voice came out of that perfect mouth, “Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Jasmine Fontaine. I’m the owner’s daughter. Nia has alerted me to the incorrect preparation of your steak.”

The words tumbled out of my mouth as I was a little awestruck by her. “I’m, uh, um, Alex. Um, Alex Cantrell.”

Lifting his fork up in a half salute, my friend chimed in, “I’m Ronnie Watson.”

“Nice to meet you both.” She gave him a nice smile. A professional smile. I wondered what her normal smile was like. I bet it was something that could make birds sing and butterflies dance. Then her doe-like eyes turned to mine. “Another steak is being prepared for you.”

“Please. You don’t have to do that,” I said, feeling shittier and shittier by the minute for even mentioning anything was wrong with my steak in the first place.

She waved her hand as if it wasn’t a problem at all. I knew better. That steak was expensive, and they had gone to a lot of trouble already just to make one for me. I didn’t need another one, but she seemed set on pleasing me. “It’s already being done. Can I offer the two of you a complimentary bottle of wine?”

Ronnie’s response was immediate, “Sure!”

Jasmine smiled and presented the bottle she held behind her back to Ronnie. She began to open it with graceful execution. As she poured us two full glasses, she added, “Both of your meals will be on the house this evening.”

I was mortified. I hadn’t meant to get anything for free. I wasn’t that kind of patron. “No. Please. That won’t be necessary.”

I was trying to be the good guy while Ronnie seemed over the moon about the free meal. “Awesome!”

Jasmine smiled at me. I was shocked to find my heart speeding up. This wasn’t like me. I didn’t get giddy over girls. They got giddy over me. “Yes. It is necessary. My father takes great pride in his meat and its preparation. We apologize for your steak not being prepared in the manner you originally wanted.”

“Our waitress isn’t going to get in trouble, will she?” I asked. I would hate myself if she had to face consequences over my complaint.

“No, sir. Don’t worry about her. She’s my cousin. She’s got this job whether she wants it or not.” She winked at me, and I felt my heart flip over and over in my chest.

This beautiful girl just winked at me – and my cock just jerked inside my slacks!

I tried to act cool. Like she didn’t affect me more than any other female ever had. “I’m so glad. She’s been an excellent server.”

Ronnie agreed, “She’s fantastic.” He paused and then asked, “Is she single?”

Jasmine laughed. “Sadly, Nia is not single. She just met someone in one of her classes last semester.”

Ronnie wasn’t one to give up too easily. “Yeah? Does she go to UF?”

Jasmine nodded. “Yes.” I watched her as she stepped away from our table. “Enjoy your meal.”

Don’t go…

I wanted a few more moments with her. Quickly, I asked, “Do you go to UF? We do.” I gestured with my thumb to Ronnie and me.

Jasmine’s face slightly fell as she laid a hand on her chest and said, “Me?” Then she shook her head regretfully, “No. Not me.” Taking a few more steps away, her smile returned as she said, “Enjoy the rest of your meal.”

Then, she was gone. She walked away from the table, leaving me stunned and wanting to see her again almost immediately after she’d left.

I looked at Ronnie who was pouring himself another glass of wine. Then lifted my glass to my lips, taking only a small sip. “Did you see how beautiful that girl was? She didn’t even have any makeup on, and her hair was up in that bun, but wow.”

“She was really beautiful, dude.” A goofy grin pulled his lips up at the corners. “You got a crush?”

“I don’t get crushes. I just get the girl I want.” I smiled back at him.

I wanted the girl, and I always got what I wanted. Now, how could I get to her again to make that happen?