“No!” he exclaims, halting my retreat. “No, don’t change. You’re perfect.”
I look away, bashful, as heat climbs up my cheeks.
You’re perfect.
I mean, I know he’s probably talking about my outfit choice, but wow, it feels great to hear someone call you perfect of all things.
“Shall we then?” I ask, hoping to move out of this situation where I’m aware Jordan is cataloguing our every interaction.
“Oh! I almost forgot. These are for you.” He pulls his other hand out from where it was hiding behind his back. He thrusts it toward me, and I take in the sight of a bunch of pink daisies wrapped in paper and tied off with twine.
“Me? You brought me… flowers?” I manage to get out, stunned.
“Well, yeah. Itisa date, Isabella. A guy should always bring a girl flowers.Especiallyon a first date.”
I gape at him, my mouth opening and closing while I try to decide what to say.
“Why thank you so much, Ryan. What a thoughtful gift!” Jordan butts in with her best impression of me since it’s clear my brain is short-circuiting, and I can’t respond for myself. She takes the flowers from where he still holds them outstretched before turning to me. “I’ll put these in water for you.” She sets the bundle on the kitchen counter before stepping up behind me and pushing me toward the door and Ryan. “Have fun you two! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
I follow Ryan out the door and turn back, giving her an exasperated look. “I feel like there’s not much you wouldn’t do.”
“Exactly,” she says with a wink as she slams the door in my face.
“Well, seems like we’re off to a great start,” I say with a laugh. “Sorry about her. She’s… incredibly hyped up over this whole situation even though I keep reminding her it’s not real.”
“Excuse you. Who said it’s not real?” Ryan asks with mock offense as he shuffles me toward the elevator. “I brought you flowers. Seems pretty real to me.”
When the doors open, we both step inside. “Thank you for the flowers, by the way. I should’ve said that inside, but I was surprised is all.”
“You’re so welcome, firecracker.” He presses the button for the garage level where the visitor parking is before he reaches down to grab my hand. That same spark of energy I felt when he first shook my hand is back, and I have the urge to yank away.
“Um, what are you doing?” I ask, eyes wide.
“What does it look like?” he replies with a raised brow. “Holding your hand, obviously.”
“Yes, I get that. But why?” The doors open and he pulls me out behind him into the garage and over to his parked car.
“It’s a date, Isa. Why wouldn’t I hold your hand?”
“Yes, but we’re only on this date because I lost the bet. It’s not arealdate…” I trail off. Right? It’s not real. There’s no way it’s real. It’s what I keep telling myself to keep the nerves at bay.
He leads me to the passenger side, opening the door and holding it open for me as I climb in. He waits while I buckle myself in before he plants his arms on the top of the doorframe and leans in, bringing his face close to mine.
“Of course, this date is real. I know your presence here is only to satisfy the terms of our bet, but you better believe I’m going to treat it like a real one. Pulling out all the stops to impress you and show you how you deserve to be treated.”
With a final smirk, he gently shuts the door on my shell-shocked face.
“So…”I draw out the word. “Going to tell me what the plan is for the evening?”
“Nope, that would defeat the whole purpose of it being a surprise, wouldn’t it?”
I roll my eyes, because yes it would, but also, how dare he. I’m dying to know over here. I slump down into my seat and cross my arms over my chest. “Fine, keep your secrets.”
He chuckles in response as he merges onto the 134 West toward Glendale. Are we heading to his place? He looks over at where I’m still sitting like a child throwing a tantrum and offers me a small smile. “I think you’ll have a good time, don’t worry.”
I’m sure he’s right. We’ve gotten closer over the last month or so of our friendship, and even in those last weeks leading up to me caving. The back and forth with the questions, the phone calls, the texts. We speak every day without fail for fuck’s sake. It’s all given me an insight into him, but also given him that same understanding with me as well. I have full faith he’s probably planned something I’ll enjoy.
“Wait, we’re going to the stadium?” I ask, confused as he takes the exit for the Suns stadium. “What part of this sounds like fun for someone who spends their working hours here? We both spend too much time here as it is.”
