“Yes,” I say firmly, knowing damn well I’m not. “I think it’s the only thing left to do. I’ll agree to it, but it will only happen once, and then we’ll wait for results. What do you think?”
He nods, and it seems to me as if he hasn’t really absorbed my words. “I have to go to the infirmary,” he says. “Do you need a ride to work?”
“No,” I answer. “Lacey is coming to get me.”
I almost mentioned that I can’t skip work because of Angela, but I don’t want to bring up her name again, so I don’t bother.
“I’ll meet up with you this afternoon, then,” he says. “See you later.”
He waves as he leaves the room, and the second I’m alone, the full weight of the situation hits me.
When I get back this afternoon, we’re going to have sex.
Nerves start to build in my guts, but thankfully, I hear the horn honk out front. I run out to greet Lacey.
***
At work, I try to push away my anxiety for the rest of the day, which isn’t too difficult considering how busy we are at the museum. On the way home, every single roll of the wheels seems to kick my anxiety even higher into gear. I consider telling Lacey to just keep driving and take me somewhere—anywhere—but I know that won’t free me from this.
I’ll just be dragging it out. The anxiety will never end. I have to do it.
I put on a brave smile for Lacey and wave goodbye, trying to turn back to the house with my expression intact, but by the time I’d gotten to the door, nerves had taken over my body again. When I go inside, I see Owen in the living room, and my heart leaps into my throat.
Are we going to do this right now? Like, immediately?
I walk slowly into the living room, wondering if I’m about to get tackled. To my surprise, Owen is wearing fitted black pants, a dark gray shirt, and a nicely cut jacket.
“Hi,” he says, looking tired but slightly better than he did this morning. “Would you like to go out to dinner? I’ve got a reservation for us, and there’s plenty of time for you to get ready if you’d like to go.”
I stare at him in disbelief for a moment, and his face hardens as he stares right back.
“If you don’t want to—”
“No, no, I do,” I answer, quickly. “Let me go and change, and we’ll go. I was just surprised, that’s all. I’d love to go out for dinner.”
“Okay, good,” he says, smiling. “I’ll wait for you.”
As I hurry down the hall, I can’t stop the little flutters of excitement in my belly. It’s been a very long time since anyone took me on a date, and I take some time with my makeup and hair. I go through my clothes carefully, choosing a pretty red dress I’ve rarely worn because the right occasion for it never came up.
I’m almost skipping up the hall to meet Owen, and his face brightens with a big smile as soon as he sees me.
“You look lovely,” he says.
“Thank you. You look a bit fancy yourself.”
“I try,” he laughs, a little shyly.
I can’t think of anything to say, and the awkwardness settles on top of us again. Owen leads the way out to the car. On the drive to the restaurant, neither of us can find anything to say, which kills my bright mood.
Well, it looks like this is going to be a magical evening.
When we get to the restaurant and go inside, my excitement spikes again. It’s a nice, just slightly upscale place, casual enough that I don’t feel self-conscious but fancy enough that I definitely feel pampered.
“Do you know what kind of wine you’d like?” Owen asks as we’re seated.
I shake my head. “I’m not good with names or brands,” I say. “I get cocktails or mixers when I go out. Wine was never my thing.”
“I’ll order a nice sparkling for us,” Owen says. “But feel free to order anything you like.”
