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At 7:00 on the nose, the doorbell rings. I practically leap out of my desk chair and sprint to the door. My parents are out on a date of their own, bless their hearts, so my man has come to the door to pick me up.
I open the door and Brandon grins at me, handsome in a button-down and dark-wash jeans. His dark hair waves ever so slightly and his blue eyes are the azure of the Caribbean. Even more, in his hands he’s holding the most gorgeous bouquet of roses I’ve ever seen. My mouth drops open. No romantic interest has ever brought me flowers before.
“Oh, my gosh,” I gush as I press my nose into the bouquet. “These are so beautiful. Thank you so much.”
“You deserve something special,” he growls, “to make up for going on a date with me.”
I laugh and shake my head, trying to disguise the blush that’s risen onto my cheeks. But of course, Brandon sees and it just makes him chuckle again. I put the flowers in a vase in my room, and then scamper to the foyer once more.
“Ready?” I breathe, almost too excited to speak.
He slings a possessive arm about my shoulders and pulls me in for a deep kiss.
“Now I’m ready,” he growls, and then we walk outside. I still can’t believe I’m about to go out with my ex-boyfriend’s dad, but stranger things have happened. To be honest, it all seems like a dream, but an especially sweet one that I don’t want to wake up from.
We get into Brandon’s luxury sedan and set off into the gathering sunset. We’re heading to a skating rink about three towns over, minimizing the chances that we’ll run into anyone we know. I’m not usually one for sneaking around, but the fact that our date is top-secret adds an extra thrill to the evening. My man, however, is very relaxed and grins at me as he drives.
To my surprise, we chat the entire trip to the roller rink. I suppose I was worried that we wouldn’t connect after that incredible session in bed, but Brandon and I are on the same wavelength. We talk easily, and burst into laughter at the same jokes. At one point, Brandon even casually takes my hand as he handles the wheel. I look over at him, surprised, and he winks.
“Can’t resist,” he says. I flush with pleasure, wondering all the while if there’s any kind of pill I can take to permanently stop blushing.
“When’s the last time you went skating?” he asks at a red light.
I rack my brain and come up empty-handed.
“I honestly have no idea,” I confess. “Probably when I was in elementary school? We used to have skating parties once a year. I just remember falling down a lot.”
He chuckles as the light turns green. “That surprises me because you seem very graceful.”
I cast him a sideways glance, not sure if he’s being sarcastic, but he looks genuine. “I can be sometimes,” I muse, “but put me on roller or ice skates and I’m like a bull in a china shop.”
He laughs.
“You sure you want to go to the rink then? We can do something else instead,” he says. “I know of a great video arcade place.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head.
“I definitely don’t want to play video games. Besides, I’m excited for today,” I say. “And I’m excited to do it with you.”
He grins and squeezes my hand. “Good, sweetheart. I’m excited to spend time with you too.”
We pull into the parking lot of the skating rink and then link hands while walking inside. I pray to God that my palm isn’t sweating because it would be so embarrassing. I can’t remember the last time I was an intoxicating combination of terrified and excited on a date, with butterflies dancing in my stomach. Even my first time with Jasper didn’t make me feel this way because Jasper was just so predictable. But standing beside Brandon makes my knees weak, and touching him sends hot pulses straight to my core.
I can’t believe this is happening, I smile to myself once again. But, God, am I glad it is.
We change into skates, and Brandon is given a particularly garish pair in brown and bright yellow, which clashes horrifically with his grey-and-black outfit. Mine, luckily, are a dusty mauve, and almost match my pink and black ensemble.
“Okay,” Brandon says as he rises to his feet. “Let’s rumble.” He sticks out his arms for a moment, his eyes wide, but then seems to easily find his balance. He grins at me and offers his arm. “You ready, honey?”
“No,” I squeak, but attempt to wobble to my feet anyway. After three tries, I’m finally able to stand up, and only by clutching Brandon’s arm with a death grip. Instead of laughing at me, as Jasper probably would have done, Brandon simply smiles in encouragement, and high-fives me when I’m able to stand.
