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Clay looked dumbfounded, as if he couldn’t believe I asked him out. That I would want to spend more time with him. The weeks that were filled with tension, I’ll be honest, mainly on my part, seemed to slip away the more he opened up. He let me into his life again, and everything felt so natural. Falling into the same place we were felt as if it was the right next step.
His jaw dropped slightly, right before a small smile grew. “That’s backwards,” he mumbled, turning his hand to lace his fingers with mine.
“Are you saying a girl can’t take a guy out on a date?” I protested, confidence radiating through me.
“No,” he stuttered. “I just, I mean. . .”Gosh he was adorable when he was nervous.“I would love to go out with you.”
I nodded, raising one corner of my lips before releasing his hand and returning to my dress on the mannequin. Carter stood, his camera pointing toward the floor, a look of annoyance that I took the time out of the photo shoot to ask Clay out on a date. I gave him a smile and then positioned myself in the same pose as before. How people weren’t getting tired of seeing me with pins between my lips and hunched over was beyond me, but those photos were the ones that made the page.
After a few moments of silence, I heard the faint clicking of Clay’s computer, his fingers moving at the speed of light, and what made me smile was knowing that he most likely wasn’t touching the letters. It was only the numbers that he was hitting.
After dinner with his parents, the moment at the dining room table, I had been battling with myself to ask him out on a proper date. One that I could treat him with, give him the perfect day, just like Milo had given Madeline. The only problem was, Clay had changed a lot since college, and I had no idea how to create the perfect date for him.
Dinner was out of the question, and anything adventurous wouldn’t be able to top bungee jumping, not by a long shot. It had to be something memorable, something to redefine who we were as a couple. If that’s what we even were. It was just a date. One date. But it had to be theperfectdate. Where was that confidence from before? Did it just fly out the window as soon as he agreed, as soon as he said he’dloveto go out with me?
“Hey.” Clay’s voice broke my concentration. The camera sounds paused, and I heard Carter grumble. I stood up straight, reached up to place my hair behind my ear and looked over at Clay. His face was angled toward his laptop, a piece of paper in his hand floating in the air, but his eyes were firm on me. “You’re overthinking it.”
I scuffed and dropped my hands. “I am not.” How dare he use that against me? I was the one who told him not to overthink, not the other way around.
He gave me a slow smirk and licked his teeth, wiggling his eyebrows before returning to the computer. Was that a tint of red to his cheeks? “All right,” he responded simply.
“You’re not in your element this time, Miss Fuller. I suggest a break?” Carter groaned. “I’ll see what I can salvage from these. Perhaps you can respond to messages from Instagram?”
I hummed at Carter, trying my hardest not to glare at him as he turned his back and walked to his tiny desk.
“Your computer has been making a lot of noises over here.” Clay motioned his head toward my laptop, that same tint of pink on his cheeks still lingering as his smirk got bigger.
I narrowed my eyes at him, walked to the desk, and spun my laptop around, wheeling my chair over to sit and face him. I could look up date ideas while pretending to be on Instagram. He would never know. I got this.
I am Ophelia Fuller, wedding gown designer, fashion extraordinaire. I can plan a date.
If we were in New York, I knew just what I would do. I would take him to the best pizza place in the city, then we would stroll Central Park. We would hold hands and maybe steal a few kisses, nothing too serious, but we would end the night back at my place, playing board or card games while drinking his favorite bottle of wine. The night would end with the perfect goodnight kiss, and then I would curl up falling asleep thinking of him. I would maybe even get a text goodnight when he got to his destination. Just the thought made me swoon.
I could feel myself swooning.
Literally.
I bit my bottom lip and used my computer to pull up Madeline’s texting thread.
Ophelia: I have a strange request, but you gotta go with it.
Since she was at work, the three little dancing dots took a few moments to appear, but once they did, my heart rate picked up.
Madeline: Explain.
Ophelia: Can I. . . borrow. . . your house next Saturday?
Madeline’s response was three question marks followed by the questioning look emoji. When I quickly typed out my idea for a date with Clay, those little dots didn’t dance for long.
Madeline: YES, YES, YES! I’ll stay at Milo’s. He’ll be thrilled.
I let out a small chuckle, which made Clay’s eyes turn to me, his fingers still planted on his ten-key.
“Just a wonderful message from a potential bride,” I lied.
He raised his eyebrows and returned to the computer.
Ophelia: It will NOT be an overnight thing, so maybe head back when Clay gets back to Milo’s?
