I click the link.
I gasp. “Holy shit. Shit. Shittttt,” I say in shock.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Ryder asks, panicked. Our eyes meet. Mine wide. His narrowed in concern.
“Daisy. Say something. You’re freaking me out here,” he bites out.
I look down at my phone again. “It’s Avery Woods,” I say in a shaky voice. “She replied to my comment on Instagram, where I offered to make a dress for her. She said yes.”
Ryder’s look of fear turns into a wide smile.
“Daisy, that’s amazing.”
“It is. It is amazing,” I say. “It’s a dream come true.” But even I can tell that my voice doesn’t sound amazed.
It sounds scared.
Because I am.
“She wants me to make her a dress. By next week. She says she’ll be contacting me with the details. It’s so soon. I can’t do this. What if I can’t do this? I feel sick.” I think I’m starting to hyperventilate.
“Hey, Daisy, look at me.”
I gaze into his familiar golden eyes, and somehow, they orient me. “Deep breaths. Breathe in. And out.”
I follow his slow breaths until my heart rate slows.
“You okay now?”
I nod, not able to break eye contact.
“What you’re feeling is normal. Everyone thinks about the high of getting the chance of their life. Of finally getting their bigbreak. But what no one talks about is that all it means is now you have to deliver. There’s safety in just dreaming. But actually getting the chance to make those dreams come true? That’s where the scary shit starts. But I know with everything in me that you’ve got this.”
“Is this how you felt? When you auditioned with Future Shock?”
He smiles. “I threw up before I performed. I still do. I puke my guts out before every performance.”
“You didn’t at Ed’s.”
He barks out a laugh. “At Ed’s, I was too busy being distracted by the most beautiful blonde I’ve ever seen.”
My stomach tilts—and not with fear this time. “Sure. Sure, smooth talker.” I look back at the screen. “Avery Woods, Ryder. You know what this means? If she wore a dress I designed…”
“If,” he scoffs. “She would be an idiot not to.”
Doubt crawls through me, slick and insidious. “But what if I make something and she hates it? My heart broke when I lost my business,” I admit. My shoulders slump. “I failed, Ryder. I didn’t want to admit it to you, but it’s not like you don’t know the truth. Everyone does. I put my whole heart into my vintage shop, and I couldn’t make it work. If Chase hadn’t kept bailing me out, I would have closed a lot earlier. What if I try this and I fail again? Maybe I should just stick to pet-sitting. It’s an awesome gig.” I hate how small my voice sounds. I want to be the strong, confident girl, especially in front of Ryder.
“Hey.” He takes my shoulders lightly and turns me to him. With an infinitely gentle finger, he tips my chin up. “Express all the doubts. Have all the nerves. They’re natural. No one ever accomplished anything great without having them. I want to hear every last one. And then when you’re done, do it anyway. Do what makes you special. Have fun. Play. Create. Because it’s not just what you do, it’s who you are, Daisy.”
His finger that was under my chin follows my jawline and tucks several curls behind my ear.
I take a shuddering breath. “Okay. I can do that.”
He nods. “Good.”
“Thanks for today,”Ryder says when we get back to the house after our date. We stand in the house’s doorway. He lets Archie off his leash, and the dog scampers inside.
“Thank you.” I can’t quite meet his eyes. Who am I? I’m shy now?
