“Ready.”
Byrdie roars to life, and Chase pulls out of the spot after checking his mirrors. I lean forward and fiddle with the radio, landing on a no-repeats station before settling back into my seat.
“Is Brax helping you look into what Elliot and Laurel were involved in?”
“Officially, no. Unofficially, yes.”
“Are you being safe?” I ask him.
“You worried about me, Bookworm?” he teases.
“Yes.”
“Everything’s okay, baby.”
“I know this investigation is important to you. I wouldn’t have minded if you wanted to stay and talk for a little while.”
“I know, but I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t put my life on hold or let it taint the good things in my life. I’m learning to balance it all. Right now, this date is my priority, and I want you to have my full attention. That’s what you deserve.”
We fall into a comfortable silence after that. As I sit here, I’m pretending to be Zen, even though my stomach is performing cartwheels.
My brain won’t shut up. Every few seconds a new worry flares.
Is he having a bad time?
Does he regret asking me out—again?
Should I have dressed better?
My stomach flips as I glance down, the ends of my hair clumped together with glitter glue.
Dammit. Why didn’t I tie it up?
My hands are no longer sweaty, but they shimmer back at me. I accidentally transferred the excess glitter from my hands to my jeans where I rubbed them earlier.
I close my eyes.
I’m on a date with Chase Harper, and I’m a mess.
“Get out of your head, baby.” His soothing voice pulls me back. “I’m not having a bad time. Whether it’s just for a minute or sixty, there’s nothing better than your time being shared with me.”
The tips of my ears sizzle with the reassurance of his sweet words.
“You don’t need to worry about a single thing. I get why you’re nervous. If it’s any consolation, I’m kind of freaking out, too.”
“You are?” I ask him, surprised by his admission. “You don’t seem scared,” I say, peeking at him as we roll to a stop at a red light.
His eyes flick to me, and he scans my face with an easy smile on his lips. “On a scale of one to ten, how much honesty do you think you can handle?”
“I can take it,” I whisper.
His voice drops to a low base. “Every day we’ve spent together, I’ve been hoping that you would come around to the idea of us dating. Now that we’re here, I want it to go perfectly because I want a second date and a third. I want all your dates, Bookworm. I want you, Erin. In my life, in my world, and definitely in my bed. You’re on my mind constantly. I’m nervous because I said I’d be a perfect gentleman, but the truth is I don’t want to be. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back how you make me feel, and I’m worried that will scare you away and you’ll run.”
“Oh,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. He’s a picture of cool, calm, and collected, and his words sink deep into my marrow.
“So, does that scare you?”
“Yes,” I say truthfully as the truck begins to move when the light turns green. “But I won’t run. I want you, Chase. I think about you all the time, too.”
