“Go on a date with me.”
I pulled out of his embrace at the abrupt demand. My heart was racing. Excited butterflies sprung to life in my stomach. But fear had a tight grip on me.
Micah had the power to devastate me.
And too many people I’d loved had hurt me already.
I didn’t know if I could trust that he wouldn’t do it again. “We’re too different.”
He scowled. “That’s bullshit.”
I let out a huff of laughter. “It would never work. It’s been years, Micah. We’re strangers now.”
“No. We’re two sides of the same coin. We got split in half for a while, but we’ll fit good as new again if you’ll let it happen.”
Oh my God, why did he have to be so romantic? “You have to mean this, Micah. This can’t just be because you miss me and are confusing our old friendship for something else.”
“We were never friends.”
I flinched like he’d hit me.
“I mean,” he hurried to explain, “I never just thought of you as a friend. I don’t go around fantasizing about making love to my friends.”
Heat stained my cheeks. “Oh.”
He studied my reaction and his grin turned wicked. “If we’re putting the truth out there, I have been thinking about doing very dirty things to you since the moment I moved down the hall from your bedroom.”
I burst into laughter, covering my hot face with my hands.
Was this really happening?
Gentle but strong fingers curled around my wrists and gave them a little tug. I let Micah lower them from my face.
“Go on a date with me. Just one date.”
“I need to think about it.”
Micah winced. “Cupid, we have been overthinking this since the moment we met. Please. Just one date.”
His eyes were big and pleading.
Jesus, he was too handsome for his own good. I groaned, feeling my defenses crumble. “Okay. One date. Just one.”
Wednesday, September 23rd
Micah: three days until I see you again.
Val: u’re really committed to this daily countdown thing, huh?
Micah: I’m ignoring your lack of enthusiasm.
Val: That bodes well.
Micah: I know you. I know what you’re getting at.
Micah: Trust me, when I’m inside you, you’ll be voraciously enthused.
Val: Cocky much? Just try to make it thru the 1st (only?) date, Green.
Micah: I can’t fucking wait. And 1st of many. Definitely not ‘only’.
* * *
Thursday, September 24th
Micah: are your favorite chocolates still Ferrero Rocher?
Val: yes. y?
Micah: are your favorite flowers still peonies?
Val: What r u up 2?
Micah: peonies?
Val: yes.
Micah: Send me a pic. I miss your face.
Val: sent. Send me one too. I may or may not miss urs back.
Micah: you look beautiful. You always look beautiful.
Val: Thank u. u look srsly hot. Damn u.
Micah: you’re so romantic, Cupid.
Val: I thought that was romantic!
* * *
Friday, September 25th
Val: So can u at least tell me how I should dress for this super secret date?
Micah: dress like you.
Val: helpful
Micah: I thought so.
Val: I might dress like Catwoman
Micah: Yes! Do that!
Val: I’m not dressing like Catwoman
Micah: yeah maybe just keep that one for the bedroom.
Val: aw in ur dreams, Green.
Micah: since I was 16.
* * *
Saturday, September 26th
Micah: I can’t believe I get to go on a date with you tonight.
* * *
I stared down at the text I hadn’t answered since this morning. I hadn’t known what to say. What I really wanted to say was, “Me too! I’m a ball of nerves and excitement and feel like all my romantic dreams are coming true.”
But if I said that, then I was just opening myself up to being hurt by him before we even went on the date.
A knock sounded on my apartment door and I almost jumped out of my skin. Mindy had taken off with Xander after we closed up shop for the day. She said my nervous energy was making her restless.
I understood. I was ‘vibing big time’, as Mindy would say.
Taking a deep breath, shaking out my hands, I cast one last look at my reflection in the long mirror that hung on the wall near our apartment door. I’d worn my favorite ‘50s prom dress just for the occasion. It was a Ted Baker dress more than a few seasons out of style but it had a ‘50s boat neck, fitted waist with a slim brown leather belt and a flared skirt. All in a stunning cherry blossom print silk fabric. It was me, but a little fancier than usual.
I’d left my hair down, curled it into soft waves with my flat iron, and had spent almost an hour on my make-up.
The truth was, I’d never gone to this much effort for a guy before. And I didn’t just mean the time I’d invested in my appearance. There was a helluva lot of emotional investment here.
Please be worth it, Micah.
Micah stood on the other side of the door when I opened it, hands in the pockets of his coat. He was wearing a dark gray waistcoat that matched his suit pants.