Chapter 33: Thirty Three

I stood in front of the mirror, holding up two different dresses against my body, both already wrinkled from the numerous times I had tried them on.

One was a deep green, simple, sleeveless, and understated. The other had tiny lace detailing at the sleeves and made me feel a little hotter than the green one. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be soft and pretty or hot and in-his-face tonight. If I wanted to look like I was trying, or like I wasn’t sure this was a good idea either.

Cassie walked in just as I was about to try the green one on again.

She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, chewing gently on the inside of her cheek. Watching me.

“You’re wearing perfume,” she said. “That’s new.”

I glanced at her through the mirror. “It’s not new. I just haven’t worn it in a while.”

She nodded slowly. “You’re getting ready for Declan, aren’t you?”

I didn’t answer right away. Just turned and smoothed my hands down my jeans.

“You are,” she said, more softly this time.

I nodded once. “It’s just a date.”

Cassie tilted her head. “Is it just a date though?”

I met her eyes in the mirror. “He asked. And I said yes. That’s all.”

She stepped into the room, walking over slowly and sitting on the edge of my bed. “Look, I’m not going to lecture you,” she said. “I’m your best friend, not your mother. And I know you’ve been through a lot lately with him, with everything.”

Her voice was kind, but careful. Like she didn’t want to make me flinch.

“I’m just… worried, Willowl.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt again,” she said, and this time her voice cracked just a little. “Plus, need I remind you, he’s your professor?.”

I sat down beside her, still holding the green dress in my hands.

“I’m not going into this blind,” I said. “I know what’s at stake. And I’m not pretending it didn’t hurt, all that mess with Declan. But… I think he’s trying. And I need to know if there’s anything there worth trying for.”

Cassie looked at me for a long moment, her brow furrowed like she was holding back more than she was saying.

Then she sighed. “Do you want me to say I support you?”

“I want you to be honest.”

She smiled faintly. “I support you. I just… wish it wasn’t him.”

I swallowed hard. “I know,” I whispered.

Then she bumped her knee against mine. “Wear the green one,” she said. “It’s pretty and it makes your eyes pop. And it makes your tits look real good.”

I smiled. “You know me too well.”

She grinned. “I’m your emergency contact. It’s a job requirement.”

I looked at the clock, it was five already. I began to put on my makeup, and doing my hair, Declan was going to be here at five thirty.

At exactly five thirty, There was a knock at the door. Just two soft taps that sent a shiver down my spine.

I smoothed down my dress and checked my reflection in the mirror one last time. Cute dress, pink lips, waves in my hair.

Cassie looked up from her spot on the couch, her expression hovering somewhere between encouragement and worry. “Text me if you need an out.”

“I will,” I said. I would never need an out with him.

I opened the door.

Declan was standing in front of the door in a dark button down and jeans, simple but clean, understated. He looked freshly showered, his hair still slightly damp at the edges. It looked like he’d gotten a haircut. He wasn’t trying too hard. But he looked good. Really good.

His eyes moved over me, quick but lingering, and something shifted in his expression. His mouth twitched for a second.

“Hi,” he said. “You look gorgeous, dove.”

“Hi,” I replied, a little breathless. “Thank you. So do you. I mean, really, really good, not gorgeous.”

There was a moment of stillness between us. Then, with a slight smile, he offered his arm.

“May I walk you to the car?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re leaning into this, huh?”

“I told you,” he said, “I can be a gentleman when I want to.”

I smiled despite myself and took his arm.

He led me down the stairs, his pace slow, matching mine. It was quiet outside. The city was just starting to slip into its nighttime rhythm, the air cooling but still soft with the warmth of the setting sun.

When we reached his car, he let go of my arm and opened the passenger door for me. I slid in, the leather seat slightly warm.

He rounded the front and got in beside me.

The engine hummed to life, and soft music began playing, something jazzy, low and so him. Like, if you saw Declan, you’d just guess that he listened to stuff like this.

He glanced over as he pulled onto the road. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

I looked out the window, trying not to let my cheeks go too warm. “You already said that.”

“Did I?”

“Back at the door.”

“Guess I meant it twice.”

I shook my head, smiling to myself.

The car was quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way, just the soft silence between us, the hum of the jazz band.

“You nervous?” he asked after a moment.

“Somewhat. You?”

“Terrified.”

I laughed. “Really?”

“Yep. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“I want this to go right,” he said, not quite looking at me.

“What does ‘ight look like?”

He finally glanced at me, a little smile tugging at his mouth. “You don’t ask for the check halfway through.”

I snorted. “That’s your bar?”

“Low expectations help manage disappointment.”

I turned toward the window so he wouldn’t see the way I was smiling. This version of him, earnest, quiet, dryly funny, and normal, was dangerous in a different way. It made him feel like someone I could’ve liked even if we’d met as strangers.

“Is this where I ask if we’re going to a place that requires utensils?” I asked.

He smirked. “Definitely. I have a reservation. Table. Wine list. Cloth napkins. The works.”

I raised a brow. “Big night.”

“You wound me, Willow. I know how to treat my woman.”

I smiled. My woman. I liked that.