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Chapter nine
Dylan
She'sabsolutelygorgeous.Iswear she hasn’t aged a single day after all these years. I was speechless when she opened the door earlier, and now that she is in my car right next to me, all I want to do is brush my nose against her neck and be wrapped up in her. Her perfume reminds me of the violets I brought her—they were always her favorite. It’s so uniquely her, taking me back to when we were younger. She’s sitting so straight in her seat, obviously nervous, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. It feels like yesterday that I had her in my car, taking drives down the coast, with the wind in our hair for weekend getaways.
I've been reminiscing for far too long. I reach into the backseat and grab a bag for her. “You’re going to need this.” She looks at me curiously, cautiously opens it, and gasps as she pulls out a hoodie from her favorite baseball team—that happens to be playing against my team tonight.
“Hold on, is that where we’re going?” She’s biting her lip awaiting my response. What I wouldn’t give to take that lip between my own teeth right now…not yet, maybe later?
“Yep,” I say casually. “Is that ok with you?”
She quickly rips off the tags before putting it on, and replies with the biggest smile I have seen on her since I arrived at her house, “Absolutely! Thank you. This is such an amazing surprise!”
The drive down the highway to the stadium is torture for me. The itch to grab her hand in mine is overwhelming. We haven't seen each other in years, it's crazy that I still have such a natural connection with her. She’s filling the silence by telling me about how she thinks this year they will make it to the World Series. She was supposed to watch the game with her best friend and is glad she doesn’t have to miss it for dinner and a movie. We used to go to games all the time when we were together, so I knew she would be excited to come tonight. Having her here with me feelsright.
"How about a wager?"
Eyeing me suspiciously, she replies, "What kind of wager?"
"If my team wins tonight, I get to pick where to take you Tuesday. If your team wins, you get to pick." Either way, I win.
She laughs and the cutest crinkles form in the corner of her eyes. "You're relentless! I see that hasn't changed—securing a second date before the first one has even begun. Does that work on all the girls?"
"I don't know. I've only ever tried it on you."
Her breath hitches ever so slightly and she tries to mask it by clearing her throat. "This wager. So long as it isn't golf, I agree to your terms."
"Oh, come on! You love golf," I reply sarcastically. She hated it back then, so I doubt she has come around to playing 18-holes with me.
She swats my arm and that tiny bit of contact from her makes my heart ache. I can't help but think about all the lost years we could have been doing this—the date nights we missed. I should have tried harder to win her back, but I'm not going to let her slip through my fingers this time.
As we park, her hand covers mine before I exit the car. “Dylan, thank you, truly. This is so unexpected and thoughtful.”
I turn my hand over to take hers in mine, squeezing three times—a reminder that I still love her. Her breath catches, I know she remembers. “Thank you for coming, E.” We smile at each other for a moment before I exit the car, then circle the car for her to do the same. She knows that I would never let her open her own door—she stopped fighting me when we were younger about a week into dating. She knows the drill.
The biggest surprise of the night is I have seats right behind home plate. A buddy of mine at work has season tickets with seats that are way better than mine. I owe him at least 4000 favors for giving me his seats with less than a day notice. Before we head to our section, I offer, “We are still a little early, want to grab a drink or a bite to eat?”
She looks up at me with a smile that could light up the whole stadium. “Sure, lead the way!”
I use the opportunity to hold her hand again. Every time I touch her, I feel my chest tighten. I steal glances as we walk and guide her to the small sports bar near our section. She is still so beautiful, it hurts to take my eyes off her for even a moment.
It’s fairly busy but we still manage to find a small table. I pull her seat out for her and lean down as I push it in. My lips less than an inch from her ear, I'm met with the familiar scent of violets, and resist the urge to kiss her bare neck. “Usual?” Her spine straightens, and I swear I hear her let out a soft moan. She turns to look at me, our faces are close enough that if I moved just an inch—
“Yes, mine with extra lime, please.” She turns away from me quickly, but I know the effect I have on her. She’s tougher than steel but always melted for me. Little does she know that one little word leaves an ache in my chest.Mine.
The bartender sees me approach. “What’ll it be?”
“Two gin and tonics, one with extra lime, please,” I reply and I hand him my card. He nods and makes our drinks. I take them back to our table, leaving the tab open. She is on her phone smiling. “Anyone I know?”
She looks up, embarrassed. “Oh, no, just a friend sent me a funny meme.” She pockets her phone in her back pocket, but I can’t help the jealousy that hits me.A guy friend?As if reading my thoughts, she explains, “My best friend actually, since college. I tagged my location on Instagram and they saw I was here and sent me a funny meme about how my team will beat yours. I’ll have to introduce you sometime! They moved away after college, before you and I…” She doesn’t complete her thought, instead reaches to pick up her drink, bringing it to her lips for a few sips. Her eyes never leave mine, even as she sets it down. “Thank you, again, this is all so amazing! I haven’t been to a game in forever.” I want to address what she was going to say, but decide to leave it be for now.
After two rounds of drinks, we’ve talked about current work projects, our kids, and basic surface-level conversation catching up. I already know most of it from my internet deepdive the other night, but I love that she is sharing with me all the same. “So, what’s the plan for work? Still planning on taking over the world?”
“Of course! Well, maybe not the whole world. I do have big plans though. I’m hoping to take on President by the end of the year, when she retires. It’ll be a lot of work but it’s my dream—I know I can take the company to the next level.” I love that she has ambitious goals and dreams. I find myself wanting to be part of them.
“Will that leave time for…other things in your life?” I plant the seed.
“As in?” A small smirk tugs at the corner of her lips as she sips her drink.
