I stand in front of a white wall and make sure nothing else shows as I snap a picture and send it.
I love that the worst you say when you’re fuming is that it’s been an annoying day and that you’re riled up. You’re the best, Dad.
CHAPTER FOUR
MONOCHROMATIC
DAHLIA
I rush home and shower quickly, shaving everything. Not because anything is going to happen. Absolutely not. But because I want to feel my best.
As I carefully apply my makeup, I frown in the mirror.
You keep telling yourself that, Dahlia, so you’ll stick to it.
Dylan has already gotten through the jillion barriers I’ve set for myself ever since Christian, so it’s fair that I feel the need to remind myself to hold on to a few. But dinner won’t hurt. The guy saved my life, after all.
I point at myself in the mirror when I catch myself smiling too big.
“Knock it off,” I say out loud.
I wear my cashmere sweater and pants with heels—all in gray—and tug at the delicate silver chain I always wear, studying my reflection one more time. There’s a much different aesthetic going on than what Dylan saw earlier. Maybe this will be a good test to see if he’s disappointed inhow I normally look. A surfer living in Southern California would fit better with someone who looks like Anastasia.
I smooth my hair down and take a look at the back view. It’s not that I don’t look good. But the adages “Less is more” and “Leave something to the imagination” are more what I live by.
I’m barely on time, so I’m glad they offer valet parking since it’s cold out and I don’t want to walk a long way. When I step inside the restaurant, Dylan is leaning against the wall. His face breaks into a smile when he sees me, and I’m taken aback all over again by how attractive he is. He’s changed into black pants and a dark gray button-down shirt, and we look like we coordinated our outfits. His hair is dipping over his eyebrows, and I want to sink my fingers in it.
“Wow,” he says.
His eyes start at my hair and track all the way down my body like he can’t help but appreciate the view.
“You look beautiful,” he says emphatically.
Well, he certainly passed my little outfit test in a hurry.
“Thank you. You look really…great.” The nerves kick in, and I think he knows it, because he gives me a reassuring smile and holds out his arm for me to loop my hand through. Touching him is an experience. His arms are muscular, and the heat I feel emanating off him makes me want to curl up next to him and stay for a while.
Stop that, I fuss at myself.
“We’re back here,” he says.
When we reach the table, he pulls out my chair and then sits across from me.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“I feel fine. I can’t believe you’re always going to think of me as that girl who passed out on your lap on an airplane.” I shake my head as we both laugh.
“No, you know what I’ll think? You falling in my lap is the perfect definition of fate,” he says, his eyes all lit up.
I swallow hard, staring at him. Good Lord, this man is going to turn my world upside down, isn’t he? How can I possibly be in trouble after just a few hours with him?
It just gets better. He’s easy to talk to, funny, and so stinking charming. I can’t remember when I’ve laughed so much. He’s nice to our waiter…that’s big in my book. I’m always on pins and needles going out to eat with my dad because I’m the kind of person who will eat the steak that’s brought out, even if it’s not how I ordered it, and he is adamantly opposed to eating anything subpar. He’s demanding and expects things to be perfect, and if they aren’t, everyone hears about it.
I’ve heard about Dylan’s siblings and his parents. His mom passed away when he was nineteen, and it’s obvious that he adored her. We’ve talked about my parents being divorced and me being an only child, how I’m close to my mom and my dad too, although my relationship with my dad is hard to explain.
“We’re just really different, but he loves me.”
“It would definitely be a him problem if he didn’t,” he says.
