“Holy shit,” my bestie says when I tell her where Nicholas is taking me. “How did he manage to get a reservation? Dad was depressed that he couldn’t get one for the opening weekend. He wanted to take Nikki.”
“No idea. You’ll have to ask Nicholas.”
She looks over a few dresses on a rack, then shakes her head. We move on to the next set.
“He’s really going all out with you,” she says.
“Yeah…”
“Maybe it’s true love.” She grins.
“It’s too early.” It took Owen almost eight months to tell me he loved me, and not even three months after that before he decided he didn’t. Thinking about my shitty ex when I’m considering my relationship with Nicholas is unfair, but life experience is life experience. It’s one thing to believe in love—after all, romance is my favorite genre—but quite another to believe it will happen forme.
Right now, I prefer not to have any expectations. I don’t want to be disappointed, especially when Nicholas has been so good to me. I want us to be able to break up amicably and remain friendly.
A nasty, burning sensation stirs in my chest… Probably just heartburn. I had Mexican for lunch, and the taco was too spicy.
She lowers her voice. “Tell me something, though. Is this a rebound for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you like being with Nicholas because he gives you that nice feeling ofbeing in a relationship?”
“That makes it sound like it didn’t need to be him.”
“Thank you. That’s precisely my question.” Georgia looks at me.
“I don’t know if I would’ve moved in with another guy so easily. I knew him, you know? And I definitely wouldn’t have agreed to a relationship so soon if it was somebody else.” I’m generally cautious when it comes to dating. Until Owen, I’d never moved in with a boyfriend. I always tried to honor their boundaries and limits, doing my best to avoid pressuring anybody. I wanted to give them as much time as they needed to build up to wanting to be with me, even though I wanted to move to the next stage, closer to the lifelong commitment and love I longed to have.
“So itisNicholas who’s special,” Georgia says.
“Yeah. You could say that.” I’ve never been this excited shopping for a new dress to wear on a date.
And the anticipation only grows bigger as I do my hair and put on my makeup. Is it the going-out part that’s exciting me? I stop in the middle of applying my lipstick and consider. No. It isn’t just the fancy dinner out. I feel like this every time Nicholas and I are about to spend time together.
I wake up in the morning in his arms, and my heart tumbles and twists like a leaf in a gale. I could be curled up in any one of the cushy chairs with fresh coffee and a book, and every time I notice him, my insides flutter.
I know I’m falling for him, which is only natural. He’s the kind of guy you can’t help but love. I just want to be sure he feels the same way. It often seems like he does, but maybe it’s just my being overwhelmed by the magnitude of his gestures. None of my exes could let me crash at their swanky mansion with full housekeeping, laundry and chef services. Much less just buy a truck over the phone to help me move. Or bid five million dollars for a dinner—or anything—with me. They couldn’t offer to lend me a car that’s worth half a million dollars because mine wasn’t starting.
But all that could be nothing to Nicholas. He is extremely wealthy, after all, and he’s probably used to spending whatever he wants on whatever his whims dictate.
Nicholas is waiting downstairs, giving me plenty of space and time to fuss over my appearance. He smiles when he sees me and produces a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back.
“Thank you.” I flush. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this kind of small, romantic gesture. Every time I get flowers from him, I’m reminded that he’s thinking of me and that I matter to him.
The drive to the restaurant is lovely. A smooth jazz melody swirls like magic. I enjoy learning what he likes, and it’s even more fun when I realize I like the same thing he does, like jazz.
“Thank you for the note, by the way,” I say with a smile. “So it hasn’t been a hundred days yet, has it?”
“Nope.” He smiles, his eyes bright with mischief.
“You know it’s driving me crazy, right?”
“I thought you were going to be patient.”
“I know, but I am curious. Especially since they seem to be different languages each time.”
“You’ll find out what they say soon enough.” He smiles. “But like I said, you can get somebody to read it for you, instead of waiting for me to tell you on the hundredth day. Whatever makes you happy.” He isn’t saying it to humor me. He means it.
