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He chuckles as I spin to glower at him. However, something behind me has his attention lifting toward the ceiling. I quickly turn back, falling still as Emilia descends the stairs wearing a deep red, sleeveless dress that flares out at her waist, swishing around her thighs until it falls to her knees.Holy shit.It looks like a sexier version of that dress Marilyn Monroe wore over that subway grate.
It’s only when she reaches the bottom of the stairs that Emilia lifts her eyes to mine. I can see the nerves fluttering on her face. Her cheeks are even stained red beneath her makeup. “It’s not too much, is it? I can change.”
My mouth opens and closes as I struggle to find the words, but Hawk beats me to it, obviously having more grace than I do.
“You look beautiful, Em.”
Her eyes dart to his, her cheeks deepening in color as she smiles nervously.
I clear my throat. “He’s right, you look amazing. Are you, uh, ready to go?”
“Yeah.” She offers me a tentative smile while I hold out my arm for her to slide hers through. Somehow this feels morerealthan anything else we’ve done this week.
“Have fun, kids,” Hawk calls as we head out the door. The only acknowledgment he gets is a two-finger salute as we descend the steps to the car.
The entire way to the restaurant, Emilia twists her hands in her dress before smoothing it out, only to repeat the action all over again a few minutes later. Her nerves only serve to set me more on edge, and I have to keep loosening my hands around the wheel.
We don’t really talk, both of us absorbed in our own thoughts as I drive us across town. A valet greets us as we pull up at the restaurant, opening her door before I can round the car. Slapping my keys in his hand, he passes me a ticket before driving off with the car, and with a palm at the base of her spine, I escort Emilia up the steps and into the restaurant.
“This looks fancy,” she mutters, low enough for only me to hear.
“From what I gather, that’s the whole point of a date.” The volume of my voice matches hers, but unlike the nerves threaded through hers, mine is lined with humor, trying to ease some of her tension.
“But…”
“Relax. We’re putting on a show, remember?”
Except it’s not all for show. Iwantto impress her. I spent hours searching for the perfect restaurant, and it wasn’t just because I knew it mattered for whatever creep was watching her.
Her shoulders marginally relax, and I keep my hand on her lower back as the concierge shows us to our table. She continues to fidget while I peruse the wine menu, identifying her favorite type and ordering it when a waiter comes over.
“Two wine glasses, sir?”
“Just the one.”
“No, two,” Emilia interjects as I hand over the menu. The waiter glances from her to me, and I nod in agreement before dismissing him. “It’s a date. It will look weird if you order a bottle and only I drink.”
“Fair enough, but I think you need it more than I do. And will you stop fidgeting, you’re stressing me out.”
She chuckles under her breath, making a physical effort to stop as she places her palms on the table. “I guess I’m nervous, although I don’t really know why. It’s not like we haven’t shared a meal together.”
“Exactly. The only difference is we have to hold hands and give each other googly eyes while we do it.” One side of my lips lifts in a smile, and it turns into a full-blown one when she tips her head back and laughs too. “Come here, give me your hand.”
She slides her hand across the table until I can wrap my fingers around hers. “I know none of this is easy on you, but I have a feeling it’s working.”
“How do you know that?”
“How could it not? If I thought you were my girl and I saw some guy pawing all over you, I’d be furious. I wouldn’t be able to stay away for long.”
One side of her lips lifts in a smirk. “Pawing all over me? Is that what you’ve been doing?”
We both chuckle, and it breaks the tension. The wine helps when it arrives, and before I know it, we’re halfway through dinner, and the conversation has flowed smoothly.
“How are you enjoying teaching at the college?”
Emilia swallows the sip of wine in her mouth before answering. “More than I thought I would. I didn’t think teaching was really my thing, but I genuinely enjoy watching the looks on the students’ faces when something clicks with them.” She smiles, remembering something. “It’s like a lightbulb moment. You can see it in their eyes. The way they widen ever so slightly and a smile brightens their faces. It’s that moment when everything I’ve been saying for the last hour that sounded like total gibberish finally makes sense.”
I lose myself for a moment in how her face lights up as she talks about her students and classes. It reminds me of the way she looked that day we went on our hike. That similar essence of joy and freedom that she’s doing something she truly loves.
