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My legs feel like Jell-O and I grab the doorframe for balance. “A date?” I ask, repeating the words because surely I heard him wrong.
“It’s stupid, right? There’s no way you’re ready for something like that and it’s totally awkward since I was Mitch’s teammate and besides that—”
“Yes,” I blurt out, a little too loudly to stop him before he rescinds the invitation.
Camden blinks. “Yes?”
A smile breaks wide on my face. “Yes. I’ll go on a date with you.”
CHAPTER 13
Camden
I’ve been ondates before.
Of course I have.
Everything from a high school date to the movies to taking a puck bunny to an event hoping to get laid later.
Of note… I always got laid later but that had more to do with the fact that I picked the right women who would give it up.
Never have I been nervous before. I’ve always had that cocky swagger, knowing my looks, charm and status as a professional athlete is the triple threat women can’t ignore.
As I stand on Danica’s porch, though, my hands are fucking sweating and my heart is about to thump its way right out of my chest. I have a distinct pressure in the center of my sternum, perhaps the start of an anxiety attack. What the hell was I thinking, asking her out? So many damn things wrong with this scenario and yet, I don’t know that I’ve ever looked forward to spending time with a person more than I do at this moment.
I don’t know what I’m looking for specifically, I only know I want to be around Danica in a more intimate way. Tonight that means a quiet dinner in an out-of-the-way restaurant with a table reserved near the back, tucked in a corner so we won’t be disturbed.
That’s it… good food and conversation.
I hear the hard clack of Danica’s footsteps on the wood floor as she approaches the door. When she opens it, my eyes drop first to her feet ever so briefly, and I hold back a groan at the sexy taupe, high-heeled ankle boots. My eyes run up her body. I told her to dress casual and outside of the footwear, she’s got on faded jeans and a royal blue turtleneck sweater with a camel-colored blazer. Her brown hair is in loose waves and she’s wearing makeup. Her eyes are smoky, lashes long and she’s got on a deep berry-colored lipstick.
She looks like a goddamn goddess and it makes me want to run away and pull her into me in equal parts.
“You look beautiful,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. I should have told her she looks pretty, not beautiful. I mean,prettydoesn’t do her justice, butbeautifulis really putting myself out there, and that kicks the anxiety up a notch.
Danica blushes, dipping her head briefly before bringing her eyes back to mine. “Been a long time since I heard that.”
Not since the crash.
“I’ll tell you again before the evening’s over,” I say, even as I want to mentally slap myself. I never say these things to women.
Because you’ve never had a woman feel this important to you before.
“You look outrageously handsome yourself.” Danica grins, her eyes shining with mischief, but I don’t doubt the compliment. She’s not the type who would say something she didn’t believe. “Now that we got that out of the way, where are we going?”
She grabs a wool overcoat and shrugs into it before stepping out onto the porch. As she locks the door, I say, “To an Ethiopian restaurant I’ve heard good things about. You said you like to try new things so I thought, why not.”
I asked Danica out the day before yesterday. Between then and now, we’ve volleyed lots of texts. Tiny exchanges, gleaning bits of information, funny memes, GIFs and jokes. Random thoughts I’d text her or she’d text me. I found out during our back-and-forth that she’s a certified foodie and will try anything once, so I wanted to take her somewhere unique.
What I wanted to do was call her just to ask her what she was doing and to hear how her day was going. But again, too intimate.
Just too much.
The texts kept it friendly and I’m hoping to fuck we can continue to be friends if this date ends up being a disaster.
Danica turns and I hold out my bent arm, waiting for her to slip her arm through. It’s the most chivalrous move I’ve ever made in my life, more so than when I walked her out to her car the night of my party. That was late at night in an area filled with bars and drunks. It was a safety issue, but tonight it’s more on the romantic spectrum.
Which is so not me, but at this point, I don’t know that I’m in control of anything.
