Nessa watched her handsome date walk around to his side of the Escalade. Every minute around him was such a rush and it did scare her a little. Just a little. Mostly she was digging it, just nervous it was too good to be true.

She couldn’t believe how open he was. Weren’t men supposed to be closed and emotionally unavailable? Even more so, she couldn’t believe how open she was around him. She’d done projects with men her entire scholastic career and didn’t have any problem interacting with them, but never ever had banter and flirting come this easy to her.

As Baron climbed in, Nessa took a breath and prepared to hold on for the thrill ride again.

He said, “I have nothing to add. You summed up the great elevator debate too perfectly.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she told him.

“What about admitting secrets I don’t tell anyone else?”

Nessa perked up immediately, excited that he might answer her question so soon.

She tried to keep it cool. “That might work.”

Baron smiled at her and she knew he was comfortable with her. He started the car and pulled out of the parking spot. “Promise me it won’t turn into a pity party.”

That made her even more curious. “Um, sure. I promise.”

“I told you I was a SEAL. My platoon was captured, held prisoner. And tortured.” He paused for just a second and kept his eyes straight ahead on the road. “Bad stuff. Like you see on war movies.”

Nessa felt her face contorting and she fought to keep the pity look off her face. There was no way to keep her eyes from tearing up, though. She resisted the urge to wipe them and draw his attention.

“When they tortured me, I didn’t say a single word. You wouldn’t recognize me.”

The uneven smirk was back on his face. Even when talking about the most horrible experience, he could still joke around.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I went through therapy of course, I think we all did. I’m not saying it’s for everybody, but for me, being open and holding nothing in has done miracles to be able to move past that experience and … beat it in a way.”

Nessa couldn’t talk. Tortured. The odds of her, a woman who managed information, getting close to someone who had gone through that were infinitesimal.

“I can tell you’re doing pity facial expressions and getting ready to cry.”

Was he bluffing? How could he know that without looking at her? If she spoke, he’d have confirmation, so she stayed silent.

Thankfully, Baron kept talking. “I get it. It’s hard to hear that from someone you’re falling for.”

Nessa couldn’t even dispute or agree.

“I did so many free association exercises, I’d wake up in my sleep shouting, ‘Potato! Light bulb! Grass clippings! Super Mario Brothers!’”

Nessa coughed out a laugh and spittle trickled down her chin.

“Got you,” said Baron, chuckling along. “I’m just glad you’re laughing instead of … doing all the things people usually do when they find out.”

“Sorry,” said Nessa. “I was wrong when I promised you I wouldn’t do that. I’m not a SEAL, I can’t just turn on and off my emotions. But there is a healthy amount of awe and admiration mixed in with those feelings you don’t want to hear about.”

“Thanks,” he told her. “Long story short, unless it’s too late for that, I’m a little scared to try to keep it in at this point.” Pulling up to a stoplight, he looked over at her and she felt a whole new level of respect. It was like looking into the face of a hero statue. Achilles or Hercules.

Nessa reached out to him, put a hand on his forearm. “Don’t keep it in. Even if I act weird about it.”

One eyebrow rose sharply. “And that’s not pity?”

“No,” said Nessa. “I told you when you asked me earlier that I liked it.”

“Good thing I took a risk and asked. Because I like saying it.”

The light changed and the moment was gone. Not gone from her memory, though. She was sure that image of her very own hero would never fade.