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"Stop it. I'm not—"
She interrupts me, "You're doing it again!" Her eyebrows raise, and she nods at my hand as it combs through my hair—again.
Fuck, she's right. The brushing through my hair thing has been a tic since I was a kid.
"Tell me, where are you taking her?"
"The new Italian place in town. So, if you don't mind," I say, pointing towards the front door.
"Fine, fine, whatever." Amanda walks past me, but when she reaches the door, she turns. "Nick?"
I glance at her as she says my name.
"Don't worry, just be yourself. You're a handsome, intelligent, kind man."
My hands knot in my hair yet again as I digest her loving words.
"And from what I've seen, she likes you."
"Hm, okay."
She walks towards me and gives me a hug and a kiss on my cheek.
"You deserve a kind woman, a real one. Not like those fake women you've dated over the years."
"Maybe that's why I'm nervous," I add, confiding in my sister. "I've never felt this way before, Amanda. This is new to me," I admit with an anxious sigh.
She flashes me a smile brimming with confidence. "She'll be nervous too—trust me. So go, get out. You don't want to be late."
I glimpse at my wristwatch. "Shit, yeah, I need to go." I grab my keys and open the front door. As I walk to the Porsche, I lift my hand in a casual wave when Amanda gets into hers.
"Have fun," she says, driving past me with her window open.
Arriving at Emma's house,I park my car in the driveway behind hers. I step out and make my way over the lawn towards her front door.
The house has a welcoming wrap-around white porch—colorful, sweet-smelling flowers in different baskets stand around the entrance. I don’t know her much yet, but this definitely looks so like her. As I take the last steps, my hand brushes through my hair. "Let's do this." I exhale deeply.
My finger touches the metal button next to the door, sending a loud ring through the air. A grin appears on my face when I hear Charlotte scream my name through the house. Seconds later, the door creaks open, and she's standing in the doorway with a super-sized smile.
"Giant!"
"Hey, Smarty. Aren't you supposed to be in bed?"
She rolls her eyes and throws me a sassy grin. "I'm six years old. I'm not a baby. And Aunty Alisha will let me stay up extra long."
"Shh. That's our secret," Alisha whispers when she turns up behind Charlotte.
"Why don't you let Nick come into the house, Smarty-pants."
As I walk in, my eyes scan the room.
"A little patience, Mister Brown," Alisha says with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Where are you going tonight?" Charlotte asks.
I turn and lower myself to her level. "I'm taking your mom to a restaurant."
"Do they have those pink drinks we had at the auction?"
