Fiocco's was the most expensive and most exclusive restaurant in Houston. It was located approximately one hour away from my home, thus giving Lincoln and I a plentiful amount of time to get to know each other for the second time in our lives.

This time was so much different. It was nice to be able to tell him true facts about myself, to tell him the real name of my school and the actual names of my friends. I was able to tell him that my favorite celebrity was actually John Stamos, and not some obscure person I thought he would have known three years ago. I told him all about how I had attended public school for my entire life even though I was perfectly capable and financially able to attend any private school I wanted to; I simply hated the preppy and stuffy people who attended most private schools around Houston.

He was even able to deliver a few surprises of his own; he explained how in the past few years he had developed an allergy to most breeds of cats, and how he had had to part ways with his favorite cat Mittens due to this new allergy. He instead grew to love dogs, something that we found we had in common; I had a black lab named Fruitsie and he had a golden retriever named Ginger.

His love for cats was always something that I had not been particularly fond of.

As the driver pulled into the parking lot of Fiocco's, Lincoln and I drew our conversation about the pros and cons of living a rich-but-not-famous life, like mine, to a close. Lincoln held up his hand to indicate to the driver that he wanted a moment before the door opened, and he took my hand in his.

"Alright, Olivia White." He looked me straight in the eye, his gaze unwavering. "I want you to know that you should act like your normal self. Please do not think that you have to be different or fancier or proper when you're around me, and please also don't think that there are any strings attached to this dinner."

I nodded as the driver opened the door to our right.

"I mean unless you want there to be." Lincoln winked as he stepped out of the car and helped me out after him. As I stepped into the fresh fall air, I was surprised to find an absence of flashing cameras and screaming fans; instead, the valet nodded politely to us and the doorman opened the door to Fiocco's as we walked inside.

"You seem surprised," Lincoln whispered to me as the hostess led us to our seats at a candlelit table for two. "Did you expect to be mobbed?"

"Not particularly," I replied, shrugging. "It's just that I'm not accustomed to being at such fancy restaurants."

Lincoln laughed as we sat down. "Oh please. Your father is a millionaire and you say you're not accustomed to fancy restaurants? That has to be false."

"It's not! We don't go out to eat all that much, mainly because we have our own chef." I felt my face redden when I said that; it wasn't like me to brag about our staff.

"Don't be embarrassed, we have a chef too." Lincoln winked. "Besides, it's not as if you can surprise me with anything that rich people do in Houston. I'm sure everyone in Los Angeles is far snootier and far less likely to be subtle about their wealth."

Our conversation was interrupted by the waitress approaching us and taking our drink orders. She was clearly taken with Lincoln and his charm, but she did nothing that seemed to be intrusive to the fact that I was his date.

"Do you get that a lot?" I asked as she walked away. "Like, the flirting and googly eyes? Does it get to your head?"

Lincoln shook his head.

"Not at all. I mean, I do get the flirting a lot, but over the years I've kind of just learned to ignore it. To be perfectly frank, I swore off dating for the past couple of years simply because I felt that no one could take me seriously. That's another reason I wanted to move to Houston, you know? Become a half-way normal person and not have to deal with swarming fans all the time, or celebrities who thought they had the "right" to date me simply because they too were famous." he rolled his eyes. "I haven't really felt anything for anyone in the past few years."

"Since the girl who blew you off?" I hated myself immediately after asking that question. I was just too curious and too interested in how he felt about this girl who he still had yet to name, and the fact that he still did not recognize me as her.

"Yeah, Sophia." he nodded. "No one since her."

"Sophia." I muttered, trying to think of how I could switch the conversation. "That's my sister's name."

"Yeah, I know." He replied, laughing slightly. "When I was first introduced to your sister, that was the first thing that came to mind. She looked a bit like the girl, but I guess my memory has just gone to waste since back then." He shook his head, "Anyways, enough about that. I heard that people you're on a date with don't enjoy hearing about ex-girlfriends."

I laughed.

"I guess that would be true. Want to hear about my ex-boyfriends instead?"

Lincoln laughed loudly, a real and genuine laugh that I felt had been lacking since we arrived. He shook his head and looked at me with a renewed interest.

"You have a wonderful sense of humor, Olivia White. I do like it."

I blushed slightly.

"Well thank you. I have heard that people who laugh a lot live longer, and I plan to be immortal, so I figured I would get a head start."

Lincoln nodded.

"Of course. I would expect nothing less of someone as intelligent as yourself. I don't think I've ever met someone with whom I could carry a conversation this easily."

I almost spat out my drink at his words, unsure of how to take them; he was either comparing me to the thousands of celebrities he had spoken with over the years, or his past love interests, of which only one existed: me.

"Are you alright?" Lincoln asked as I coughed quietly into my napkin, "I didn't mean to say anything offensive."

"No, you're fine." I shook my head, "It just went down the wrong pipe."

He nodded as the waitress returned with our drinks and asked what we wanted to start out with. After ordering what felt like an absurd amount of food for two people, we continued with our conversation. It was so simple to talk to him, and the only thing I had to watch out for was repeating anything I suspected I might have said three years before.

He was so incredibly charming, and I felt like that was something I had simply forgotten about from the past years; after all, I had been trying to erase all thoughts of him from my mind for that amount of time. Yet there we were, eating dinner and chatting like old friends, and nothing felt out of place at all; nothing felt awkward like most first dates were, nothing was out of the ordinary in terms of conversation, and nothing was...weird. Everything was wonderful.

As dinner wrapped up and we returned to the limousine, there was little else for us to talk about that we hadn't already covered. I had pretended that his stories of old tours were brand-new information, I had told him things about myself that I had never divulged out loud before, and there were so many things that I wanted to say and apologize for and yet simply couldn't.

He walked me back to my door when we arrived home, and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek at the doorstep.

"I might pop by for a visit tomorrow morning. But not through this door." He smirked before walking back to the limo, leaving behind feelings I hadn't felt in years.

A/N: Ayyye keeping the updates going! (Not sure how much longer I can keep this up) How did you feel about the date? Comment what you think will happen next!

-Katherine