Getting the cheek

Sitting on my back patio sipping a red Burgundy after a first date at a baseball game, he suddenly leaned forward.

"Come here, you've got something on your nose," he said, trying to pull me towards him.

"No, I don't think I do," a poor attempt at coy.

"Come here, let me just see..." softly leaning forward. He got the cheek. Big time.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I stammered. "It's not that I don't want to kiss you, I just really want to take things slow. Get to know each other, ya know?"

"Sure, sure. That's fine, really." His resilience seemed sincere.

It had to come out sometime. About twenty minutes later, I gave him the skeleton version of my last dating war, and tried to explain that in an attempt to learn a lesson from the situation, I have vowed to take things slowly from now on. I hoped he understood.

"Nope, that's totally fine. And I'm glad I know more about where you are coming from now. Finding someone you can just hang out with is the most important thing in a relationship, so let's figure that out. But I would like to hold your hand."

I acquiesced.

Still not sure if he was BS-ing or not. I guess only time will tell. I will say, though, that it was cute when he offered to give me a list of names and phone numbers of friends, ex-girlfriends, and family members who would vouch for him.