My heart kicked against my ribs.
Unknown #2:
I’m Lex. We wanted to reach out before you arrived at the Ranch. Are you free tomorrow evening for dinner? We’d like to fly into town and meet you in person.
I stared at the screen. Tomorrow. They wanted to meet me tomorrow.
Majesty:
No pressure. Just thought it might be easier to get acquainted before you’re surrounded by over a dozen students and a packed schedule.
My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. This was happening faster than I’d expected. But maybe that was good—less time to overthink, less time to talk myself out of it. I typed back:
Me:
Tomorrow works. What time?
The response came within seconds.
Lex:
7pm? Pick the restaurant. Somewhere you’re comfortable.
Majesty:
Our treat. And, Cami—we’re looking forward to meeting you.
I set my phone down on the table and pressed my palms flat against the cool wood.
Twenty-four hours to prepare myself to sit across from two Dominants who would spend the next few weeks teaching me everything I’d been too afraid to explore on my own.
I had a day to figure out how to breathe normally again. I picked up my phone and called Shelly.
“So?” she answered on the first ring. “Did you say yes?”
“I said yes. And now they want to meet me for dinner. Tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow? That’s good. Get the nerves out of the way early.”
“Shelly.” I stood and started pacing across my living room floor. “This is basically a blind date. Two blind dates at once. What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Have dinner and get to know them? Cami, these aren’t random guys. They’re men who both Sampson and I vouch for.”
“That doesn’t make it less terrifying.” I looked down at my leggings and t-shirt, then caught my reflection in the window. Insecurities I thought I’d buried started surfacing. “What are the odds they’ll actually like me?”
“Stop.” Shelly’s tone sharpened. “Don’t do that thing where you spiral about whether you’re good enough.”
But I was already there, standing in my living room feeling like the girl who got dumped two weeks before her wedding. That version of me who wondered if she was better suited as a friend, if she was crazy for running a fashion blog, if anyone would ever find her attractive enough to keep.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Shelly continued, her voice softer now. “And you need to remember that asshole breaking off your engagement had nothing to do with your worth. You’re confident in everything else—your career, your blog, your life. Don’t let one failed relationship convince you dating is something you’re bad at.”
“Easy for you to say. You have the perfect relationship,” I muttered.
Shelly was married to her childhood crush and they had a girlfriend. Plus, she had twins who were the sweetest bundles of loveliness that you’d ever know. She was living her best life.
“Perfect?” She laughed. “Cami, you know better than that. Harrison and I worked our asses off to get where we are. Adding a submissive to our dynamic took communication, negotiation, and a lot of fucking patience. We didn’t just magically find ourselves happily ever after.”
I knew she was right. I’d watched them build something beautiful—a throuple that actually worked, raising babies, a life they’d created together through honesty and trust. That’s what I wanted. Not necessarily the husband and girlfriend, but that bond. That willingness to explore life openly with someone.
