Rose leaned her shoulder up against the corner of the wall where the living room met the hallway. Matt, she realized, was more than just a nice guy, more than just a strong leader and a kind mentor. He was a gentleman, and it'd taken her this long to realize it because she was so unused to knowing gentlemen. Rather than make her feel uncomfortable about her obvious gaffe, he smoothly moved over it, covered the transgression with kind words, and made her feel like she hadn't made a mistake with what she'd said at all.
And what he'd said... Her heart ached inside its bone cage, and had she been in the kitchen with him, she was sure she'd've already... Did he even want that? The dinner, well. It seemed like maybe... and he was putting so much effort into this, more than a friend would do even to ease another friend's rotten Valentine's Day spent alone... Rose raked her hand across her forehead and stared at the back of his shoulders as he worked on their dinner.
Matt was right.
God, he was so right.
Rose cleared a sudden lump in her throat - but unlike what it might have been mere seconds before, there was nothing like sadness in her now. "Red," she answered, then changed her mind. "No, white. Lobster, and all." She'd learned a bit about wine pairings, not from her own experience, but from the idle conversation she'd heard around the shop. It felt like lifetimes since she worked in a shop.
"I'm really glad you decided to have me over," she said, finally pushing away from the wall and heading down the hall to explore. She was dying to explore. There was a guest bathroom, neat, clean, and tidy - and she found what must have been his bedroom, but didn't linger...