Page 80 of Heartstrings & Horseshoes

I check the time on my phone for the millionth time this hour and nearly cry. Connor will be home to pick me up for our first date in twenty minutes and I’m nowhere near ready.

I’ve tried on every piece of clothing I own, styled and re-styled my hair, and am now so sweaty I need to take another shower. Why am I so nervous? Connor’s taken me out for dinner before.

But this is different—we aren’t going out as friends. He’s taking me out as his girlfriend and I’m freaking out.

I want to impress him and make tonight perfect since he’s been dreaming of our first date as long as I have. I don’t know where we’re going and I’m afraid to be underdressed or overdressed.

I’m spiraling into a panic attack when my phone chimes.

Studmuffin: I’m on my way. I can’t wait to see you. You’re probably freaking out, so I want to remind you I’m madly in love with you and you are perfect exactly the way you are. Don’t overthink it, dollface.

And just like that, the tornado in my chest settles to a dust bunny. As I thumb through my discarded outfits, I reflect on our relationship, and if he’s loved me the way he says he has, that means he loved me when I’ve been ugly, sick, sweaty, dirty, angry, and puffy from crying.

Connor loves me. I can do this.

You can never go wrong with a little black dress, so I choose my favorite one. It’s flattering and not too tight, so I can eat comfortably. The stretchy fabric slinks down my body, caressing me seductively.

I’m careful to pull the bodice up to cover the bra I’m wearing. It’s a sinful set I bought for myself as a reward for landing my internship but haven’t had a reason to wear. I hope Connor likes it.

I slick my hair back into a high ponytail and put on my favorite earrings and an extra spritz of perfume.

I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, putting on my dressy cowboy boots when someone knocks at the front door.

Who’d be knocking our door? Connor has a key, and everyone else texts before they come over. I pause on my walk to the door. What if it’s my mom? She’s not supposed to be anywhere near me. Quietly, I take the last few steps to the door and peer out the peephole—to find Connor on the other side, holding an enormous bouquet of flowers.

His eyes drink me in as soon as I swing the door open, admiring every detail I fretted over. It was silly getting so worked up. This is Connor. He’d never make me feel anything less than wanted.

“You’re…beautiful. So pretty, Delilah.” He gulps, a blush tinting his cheeks.

“These are for you,” he says, offering me the flowers.

The heady, floral scent invades my senses, and I swoon like a fool. I’ve never gotten flowers before, and these are my favorite. Carnations are often overlooked, but I’ve always loved them, and Connor remembered. Shades of yellow are accented by the occasional light pink carnation. I want to take a picture to keep them forever.

“Are you ready to go?” Connor asks, clearing his throat nervously.

“I need to get these in some water,” I say, turning back towards the kitchen, but Connor gently cups my elbow.

“It can wait—but I can’t.” A sinful smile curves one side of his mouth and my stomach erupts into butterflies.

I set the flowers on the counter as Connor tucks my phone and other things into his pockets. I’ve never needed a purse around him, and I love he’s my same Connor tonight.

He escorts me to his truck, opens my door with a flourish and helps me inside. He reaches across my body to buckle my seatbelt, and on his retreat, kisses the sun pendant hanging between my collar bones.

The breath I suck in is masked by the door shutting, and as we drive away from our apartment, Connor’s hand never leaves my thigh.

Water nearly comes out my nose from how hard I’m laughing.

“You did not!” I exclaim.

“I did. Your freshman year, I scared off every guy at school who dared to look at you. The school nurse had never been busier because boys at school had come down with a severe case of clumsiness. Jammed fingers, bloody noses, skinned knees,” he says with the brightest smile on his face, as if he didn’t assault half the student body.

“So, I have you to thank for never being asked out on a date?” I ask, dabbing my eyes from laughing.

“Hell yea. I thought I couldn’t have you but there was no way I was going to let any other asshole get near you. You forget I was a teenage boy too, and I knew the depraved shit going on in my own head. Anyone else fantasizing about you the way I did made me murderous,” he admits.

“Why do I find that so attractive? I had my own bodyguard and didn’t even know. I should be alarmed by how many people you’ve hurt on my behalf, but instead I wish the waiter would bring our check so I can thank you properly, at home,” I say, twirling my tongue around my straw with a wink.

“WAITER!” Connor hollers, standing so fast his chair crashes backwards.