It was almost six years ago, in the same city we find ourselves today. On a typical Wednesday evening after small group, Kyle had convinced me to go to dinner at Steak and Shake. We were driving along in "BART", Kyle's beloved Dodge Ram, singing our favorite country songs. I'd giggle at his renditions and he'd smile in amusement at my 'beautiful' voice. My typical college apparel revealed that it was still winter in Michigan; ugg boots, mittens and a north face. I remember because Kyle constantly teased me (still does) about how ugly those boots were. We sat at a booth next to the window, and I watched him happily consume his burger, fries and shake. I had a few sips of his shake, but my stomach was swarming with butterflies to the point that I couldn't seem to eat. We were 'just friends' at the time, treading heavily on those 'are we more than friends?' waters, just enough to analyze every flirtatious gesture. The one I remember the most, the one that is solidified in my mind as a defining moment of when the line between just friends and dating was forever blurred, was when we left the restaurant. He opened the door for me, as any gentleman would do, but as we walked through the dark parking lot, lit only by the Steak and Shake sign, I felt his hand on my back, guiding me. That's it. Just a slight touch in the middle of my back, against the five layers keeping me warm. It may seem like a small gesture, but Kyle still gives credit to Will Smith for his move:

"Lean in, place your hand on the small of her back, say it in her ear like a secret. But watch your hand placement, too high says, 'I just wanna be friends,' too low says, 'I just wanna grab some a" 
This past Saturday, the weather was deary and provided a perfect opportunity for us to relax, together. We accomplished some Christmas shopping, then made our way to a matinee. Afterwards, we pulled out of the theater, only to notice the Steak and Shake sign lit around the corner. Kyle gave me a look that beckoned me to travel down memory lane, so he turned right and we found ourselves in the same parking lot that began, what we now consider, our first date.

We sat on the bar stools at the greasy restaurant that started it all, and couldn't help but smile at the college-aged couple in the same booth that we once sat. As the same smell of greasy fries filled the air, the same butterflies filled my stomach. As we walked out, one hand was full with our to-go bag, the other on my back. Sure, I'll sacrifice eating the burgers just for the nostalgia of good ole' Steak and Shake. 

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