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Gotta go. I’ll see you tonight.
CHAPTER 11
Nolan
“There’s no need to panic,” Allie said calmly as I paced across my bedroom.
Her disembodied voice was not helping matters as she watched me from FaceTime like I was some anxious animal.
Because I am an anxious animal.
“Of course, there is a need to panic! I haven’t been on a date in like five years, Allie. I need... I need this to go well, you know. Not just because it’s Dawson, but...”
Because I need to know I’m not a complete failure of a human being.
“I thought you said it wasn’t a date. That it was just a silly bet. That it’s just you besting him and getting your reward.”
I huffed out a groan of defeat. “I know what I said, but...”
Truth was, up until I’d texted Dawson, I was content to believe it was just some silly bet, nothing to get worked up over. I’d put on some nice clothes, smile, and enjoy wherever we were going solely because it was a night out with the man I’ve been pining over for the last two years, and quite frankly, I was starting to think Karla was right. Maybe I did need a break, maybe I did need to relax.
But after Dawson’s weirdly flirtatious texts earlier about making sure I looked nice, how he’d called me baby... telling me to be ready when he picked me up.
Well, it kind of sounded like maybe this was a date, which I knew was crazy. After all, Dawson Richards could have any man he wanted. He’d only have to blink and they’d say, “Yes, Daddy, take me home and ruin me.”
Myself included.
I’d won the race fair and square, but as I second-guessed everything in my closet earlier, I felt more like a loser than a winner in anything.
I’m so out of my league here.
“Then why do I feel like a high-schooler going out with the captain of the football team?” I grumbled as I smoothed the front of my light blue button down for the hundredth time in an hour.
Staring at myself in the mirror, I had to admit I did look nice. My shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbows, which I felt showed off my arms nicely, especially since I’d been working out a lot more since the beginning of the year. I wasn’t built like Dawson or the other firefighters, but I liked where my definition was going, and I knew if I kept it up, it would only get better.
I stared at my mirror image, my pale skin contrasting the perfectly crisp pale blue shirt and a nice tailored pair of slacks, my dark hair swept back just enough to look like I hadn’t spent a half hour strategically arranging it in front of my bathroom mirror. Even my glasses looked nice with the outfit. It was a simple look, but I’d found through the years that sometimes simple was best. It’s often understated, but I’d gotten through plenty of weddings, cocktail parties, and business meetings with that outfit.
As I looked at myself, I felt a pang in my heart. I wanted to look more than nice. I wanted to look like someone who could be on a date with Mr. March.
I wanted to look sexy.
I wanted to feel sexy.
Sigh.
That was when I heard the knock on my door, which made me nearly jump out of my clothes and skin as my gaze flashed to my digital clock. It was only five fifty-three.
He’s a couple minutes early.
I ran to grab my phone from its stand, Allie’s eyes lighting up with excitement.
“Holy shit, he’s here...” I gulped, watching Allie smile ear to ear.
“You’re going to have a great time, Nolan. I promise. Just be yourself.”
I wished I could be anyone else, truly.
Someone whose heart wasn’t ready to beat out of his chest with anxiety right about now.
