“Well, Jaz really likes this guy, and he suggested a double date with a couple of his friends, but they had to pull out last-minute. So Jaz, in a moment of sheer stupidity, suggested thatwego instead.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the second couple on a double date usually, you know, a couple?”
She finally walks out of her room in a pair of tan suede leggings and a cream sweater that drapes off her shoulder. There’s somethingin the way it hangs, like if I gave it a little tug I could see more of her—allof her.
“You’re gorgeous.” I can’t stop the words, though they come out a bit breathless.
My eyes rake over her in a way that is decidedlynotfriendly. When I finally drag my eyes to her face, her cheeks are flushed in that way I love, and the grey of her eyes looks darker.
“Thank you.” Her eyelashes flutter as she glances away. “And to answer your question, yes,usuallythat is how it works, but she panicked and we were the first people she thought of.”
Her gaze comes back to me in a slow perusal. I see myself through her eyes—my dark jeans and button-down shirt that ironically matches the color of her sweater. I don’t have a lot of dressy clothes. I anticipated a lot of surfing and flying and not much else on my schedule this year. When Joss told me we were going out tonight and that I needed to dress up, I scrambled for over an hour. Based on the look in Joss’s eyes though, I didn’t do too bad. I follow her throat as it bobs with a swallow before she speaks again.
“Are you okay with this? I didn’t know how to tell her no.”
She’s chewing her lip nervously. Is she really worried that I wouldn’t want to spend the evening with her, especially when she’s looking like that? I step toward her and pull her lip free with my thumb, then let it linger on her chin.
“Grey, seriously, it’s fine. What’s the plan?”
She’s flustered by my touch, and as much as I love it, I know I need to tread carefully. I take a step back, putting some distance between us before I do something stupid like kiss her.
We’re always a little flirtatious these days, but the last thing I want to do is anything that might drive Joss away or scare her off. We’ve been honest with each other since the beginning about our different stances on relationships. That hasn’t changed… as far as she knows.
For me, there’s been a shift these last few weeks, in more ways than one. Since the night at Breck and Talia’s, I’ve felt lighter. I’ve caught myself a dozen times daydreaming about waking up next to someone, sharing about my day, fingers entwined with another’s. Laughing with someone over the little things.
And not just someone. Joss.
It’s only Joss I see when I consider this possibility. But how can I pursue something with her when my time here is destined to run out? It would only end up hurting us both.
Joss’s voice pulls me out of my head. “Jaz’s date, Paul, got tickets to whatever show they have at the Opera House tonight—I think she said it wasAn American in Paris.” There’s a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. “And a reservation for dinner at Aria beforehand.”
“Wow, fancy. No wonder you asked me to dress up. So are we…” I trail off, wondering how to put this in a way that won’t freak her out. “Are we, like, a couple for the night?”
Her eyes dart away. “We don’t have to act any differently. No need to make it weird.”
“Make it weird?” My head tilts to the side, eyebrows raised.
“We don’t have to kiss or anything. We just act like us, and I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
“Okay. No kissing, got it. Time to go?”
It’s good to know, but damn, I wish that wasn’t her hard and fast line. I wouldn’t mind having an excuse to get my mouth on hers. One where there aren’t expectations. The mouth in question is worrying that bottom lip again, and I don’t think she realizes what the action does to me.
“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” She looks me over one more time, eyes burning a trail down my body, before she grabs her coat. “You look nice too. I meant to say that before.”
She doesn’t quite meet my eye and the color in her cheeks deepens again. Tonight is going to be fun.
The restaurant is situated to have a gorgeous view of both the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. I swallow and smooth down my shirt. This is the fanciest restaurant I've been to in a long time. My usually confident demeanor wavers, wondering if they’re going to let me inside in my jeans. What if I ruin this night for everyone? Not to mention this is my one chance at a date, no matter how real, with Joss.
The hostess doesn’t bat an eye at my attire, and I breathe a little easier. We’ve beat Jaz and her date here, so I lead Joss to the bar, my hand coasting down her back to rest at her hip before pulling out a stool for her.
“Drink of choice when you’re out at a bar?” I ask. This feels like something I should know, but seeing as most of our nights include pizza and beer or takeout and wine, this is all new terrain.
“Gin usually. G&Ts are my go-to, unless there’s something more fun on the menu.” She picks up the cocktail menu, smokey eyes scanning the options. A smile breaks across her face as her finger stops on a blueberry gin martini. “That’s the one for tonight.”
“It’s on me.” I wave the bartender over and order her drink, along with a scotch—neat—for myself. At some point during my naval career, I became a scotch man, though I don’t usually buy it to drink at home. When he returns with our drinks, we clink our glasses together, eyes holding over the rims.
A little hum slips from Joss’s mouth, her eyes fluttering closed, clearly enjoying the taste. She does a little shimmy with her shoulders, which I take to mean she approves. I’ve seen her do this with food too, and it never fails to make me smile. She catches me staring and, in true Joss fashion, crimson floods her cheeks. I love how reactive she is to my attention.
