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I stop her. “Don’t. I can’t go there right now. Hell, I don’t ever want to go there again.” Thinking about my ex before my date with Grant is not a good idea.
“I’m sorry.” Aspen is quick to apologize. “Where is he taking you tonight?”
“I’m not sure. He just said dress casual.” I look down at my black skinny jeans, black tank top, and burgundy open-front sweater. “Is this good enough?”
“You look hot. He’s going to go crazy.”
Before I can second-guess my outfit, the buzzer sounds. “Will you let him in?” I ask my sister. I just need a few more minutes. With each time I see him, my feelings grow. I always have a good time with him. He never makes me feel pressured or less than him. It’s a feeling I’m quickly becoming addicted to. Squaring my shoulders, I take one last glance in the mirror and go to meet my date.
“Wow,” he says as soon as I step into the small living room. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” I say shyly, looking down at my feet that are now covered in my knee-high boots.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Aspen, do you want to join us?”
“No. You crazy kids go ahead.” She gives us a knowing smile, like she has this big secret that she knows we’re about to discover. That’s Aspen for you. Always optimistic and looking at the bright side of life. I wish I could be more like my little sister.
“Want me to bring you something back?” I ask.
“Nah, I’m good. Besides, one of us needs to eat your leftover chicken parmesan from last night’s date.” She smirks.
“Fair enough.” Grant chuckles. “Let us know if you change your mind.” We wave to Aspen and then we’re off. With his hand on the small of my back, he leads me to his SUV.
Date number eight is officially underway.
“I’m impressed,” I tell him, finishing off the rest of my wine. “That was delicious.”
“I’ll admit I was nervous. I wasn’t sure I remembered everything from our class.”
“Is this what you call a two for one? Using what you learned on our cooking date to preparing the same meal on your own as another.”
“It got you here, didn’t it?” He smirks.
“Yeah,” I agree. “It got me here.” I stand and start clearing our plates.
“Sit. I’ll get that. You’re a guest.”
“I am, but you cooked. This is the least I can do.”
“Aurora, go sit,” he says, taking our empty plates from my hands. “Why don’t you refill your wine, and go pick out a movie?”
“You’re going to let me pick?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“We could stare at a screen full of fuzz as long as you’re sitting next to me.” He kisses my cheek and turns to start filling the dishwasher.
Doing as he suggested, I pour myself a little more wine and head to the living room. He already has the movies pulled up, so I scroll through looking for something that would interest both of us. I’m still scrolling five minutes later when he comes and takes a seat next to me with a bottle of water in his hands.
“Any luck?”
“No.” I hand him the remote. “You pick.” My anxiety about choosing wrong is taking over. I know it’s all in my head and that I’m overthinking this. I also know he’s not Elijah, but that’s just it. Elijah wasn’t always an asshole. No, he got me in his clutches before he became the devil here on earth. At least to me.
“Oh, no. That’s your job. I already told you I don’t care what we watch.” He places the remote on my thigh.
My breathing accelerates, and I hate myself for it. This is foolish. I’m a grown woman who has choices. I should be able to make these kinds of decisions with a man and not freak the hell out.
“Hey.” Grant turns to look at me, his hands resting on my cheeks. “Breathe for me, beautiful,” he says softly.
Keeping my eyes on his, I focus on slow, even breaths. Once I have gained control of my breathing, I turn my head to hide my embarrassment, but Grant won’t let me hide. Not that I expected him to.
“Come here.” He moves to settle against the couch and pulls me into his arms. My head rests against his chest, and the steady beat of his heart calms me. “You want to tell me what that was about?”
“Not really. I was hoping that we could forget that it happened.”
“No way. I need to know what I did to cause that reaction in you, so I’m sure to never do it again.”
“It wasn’t you.”
“No? Then tell me what’s going on. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” He’s quick to assure me.
I don’t know how, but he always seems to know what I need or what I need to hear. “My ex was… not a nice guy.”
