James was NOT nervous. James did not GET nervous. The way he was fidgeting and consistently wiping his hands on his jeans was just restlessness, he'd insist on it. Nevermind that his face was a little pale and he couldn't hold still to save his life, or that when she finally got close enough for him to speak, he couldn't quite find his voice. He stared at her, looking like a deer in headlights, before it all tumbled out at once. "Evansdoyoumaybewanttogooutwithme? ....Fuck. I mean.... would you?"
It takes her a solid minute to decipher what that word vomit had said, all while staring at James like he’d grown a second head from the tip of his nose at the same time as she tried not to stare him down too much in case he fell over from the fright of it. He looked like he might despite her best efforts.
Okay, maybe not her best efforts, because she did take another minute to consider the proposition before she shrugged and said, “All right. Grab some food and a movie maybe, yeah?”