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Knowing Artemis, she’ll show up in heels sharp enough to qualify as weapons but we’re going into the city tonight, and we need to be a little less recognizable after all the shit that’s been going on today.

That’s a nearly impossible task, considering she’s the most beautiful woman walking the earth.

I wait beside my Ferrari SF90 Stradale, hands buried in my jacket pockets.

Wearing a black hoodie with black cargos, a black baseball cap and white sneakers.

Casual and comfortable.

Everything my date is about to refuse to be.

A moment later, the front doors open and then she walks outside.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Will I ever learn to breathe normally when I see her, or will she spend the rest of my life stealing the air straight from my lungs?

Shit.

Skin-tight jeans. A white knit tube top tucked into them. An enormous black winter coat. Her white hair falls straight down her back, gleaming beneath the porch lights, and diamonds glitter at her ears, throat, wrists, and fingers.

And she’s wearing black heeled boots that reach her knees.

I forget every thought I’ve ever had.

Her honey-colored eyes narrow. “You’re staring.”

“Fuck yeah, I am.”

“Stop.”

“Never going to happen.”

A faint blush creeps across her cheeks.

That’s my girl.

God, she’s gorgeous.

Please let me fucking keep her.

You can take everything else.

Just… never her.

He and I haven’t spoken since I was nine years old and here I am asking him to let me keep this dream.

“Here.”

I hold out the white sneakers.

She looks at them and then at me.

Then back at them, as though I’ve just offered her a pair of dead rats.

“There’s no way in hell.”

I bite back a laugh.