Until May (Until Her/Him #11)(27)

Wait, what?

“What?” I panic when that warm feeling in the center of my chest begins to disappear.

“What time do you get home from work tomorrow?”

“Why?”

“So I can pick you up for dinner.” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear as his eyes stay locked on mine. “What time?”

“I normally get home around five.”

“All right, I’ll be here at six.” His hand slides down my arm, then his fingers wrap around mine so he can pull me behind him toward the front door. I go with him, trying to get my brain and mouth to work in unison, but honestly, I feel like I’m suffering from whiplash after everything that has happened since he got here. When he gets to the end of the hall, he drops my hand, bends down to grab the box he placed next to the mat, then opens the door, and turns toward me. “Make sure you lock up.”

“You’re really leaving?” I blurt, and he leans toward me and touches his lips to the edge of my mouth.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turns on his heels and heads across my porch and down the steps. “Shut and lock the door,” he calls while disappearing around the corner.

“What the heck just happened?” I mumble under my breath as I listen to the lid of my garbage can next to my garage slam. Then a moment later, his truck door opens and closes before his engine turns over.

Not wanting to be caught standing in my door when he drives by, I close and lock it and stop in my living room to pick things up, straightening the pillows that had gone askew from him practically tackling me, before I head to my room.

I replay the evening over and over in my head as I go through my nightly routine confused by what happened, but more than anything, I’m frustrated, because that feeling of warmth I felt earlier is right there under the surface but just out of reach. And no matter what I do, I can’t seem to get it back, so I end up tossing and turning long into the night.





Chapter 9


May

“I CANNOT BELIEVE you’ve been keeping this from me.” Toya drags her eyes off my phone to scowl at me, and I shift on the chair I’m sitting on as her eyes narrow. “For the last week, we’ve talked about what we’ve eaten for dinner, the books we’re reading, and Tony’s obsession with that new video game he got. And not once did you ever mention a hot soccer player.”

“It never came up.” I take my phone back from her and look at the photo of Aiden that I’d saved to my phone when I thought his name was Mike and just never deleted.

“It never came up?” she repeats, sounding disbelieving. “I don’t know whether I should be angry or laugh at you right now.”

“You can’t be mad at me about this.”

“I think I can,” she disagrees. “And I would be if I hadn’t noticed the way your eyes were twinkling when you were looking at his picture.”

“My eyes were not twinkling.” I place my cell phone facedown on the table next to my open lunch container.

“They were.” She picks up her iced coffee and takes a sip as I glower at her. “So you have a date with him tonight?”

“I don’t know if it’s a date, but he said he was picking me up at six to take me to dinner.”

“Honey, I know you’re a little out of practice, but that is a date.”

“Whatever,” I mumble, and she smiles while she looks me over.

“So what are you going to wear?”

I look down at my red turtleneck that is tucked into my wide-leg black pants and the pointy-toed heeled booties on my feet. “This.”

“You are not wearing that out on a date with a man who looks like him.”

“Why not?” It’s my turn to scowl at her. I thought I looked cute this morning when I looked at myself in the mirror before I walked out of my closet.

“You look like you work at a high school around boys who are far too young for you but who you know still imagine you naked, so you do what you can to not give them any ideas.”

“Oh my God,” I gasp. “Don’t say that.”

“They’re teenage boys.” She shrugs one elegant shoulder.

“Still.” My nose scrunches in disgust, because I know she’s right. “I don’t want to think about what they’re thinking about,” I grumble, pulling my turtleneck up higher on my neck, and she laughs.

“Don’t think about them. Think about him and what you want him to think and feel when he sees you.” She leans across the round table and rests her hand over mine. “Dress up, put on some lipstick, and wow him.”

“Wow him,” I repeat, laughing, and she smiles.

“You’re smart, beautiful, and worthy of a good man, so you need to show him what he’ll be missing out on if he messes up.”

“Is that what you did with Tony?”

“Absolutely.” She smirks. “On our first date, I suggested that we meet at a bar I went to often with my girlfriends, and while I was there with him, two men approached the table we were sitting at to talk to me.” She flutters her hand out between us. “Tony, as I hoped he would, went into caveman mode, making it clear we were there on a date. Then, later that night when he was walking me home, he made it clear that things between us were going to be serious and he didn’t want to share me with anyone else.”