Chapter 158 She's perfection

Chapter 158 She's perfection
Dylan’s POV

I have played in front of thousands of people.

I have stood in packed arenas with the entire crowd screaming so loudly that I could barely hear my own thoughts. I have taken shots at the goal with seconds left on the clock, knowing that one mistake could cost my team the game. I have faced interviews, press conferences, angry coaches, brutal training sessions, and enough pressure to make most people crumble.

None of it has ever made me this nervous.

It is just a date.

A date with Emma.

My girlfriend.

The thought still feels strange in the best possible way.

I glance at the clock on the dashboard for what is probably the tenth time in the last five minutes. My hands are steady on the steering wheel, but there is something restless moving beneath my skin. I keep telling myself to relax. Emma and I have spent hours talking, laughing, arguing, kissing, and doing far more dangerous things than sitting across from each other over a meal.

So why does this feel different?

Maybe because this is our first actual date since getting back together.

Maybe because I have spent so long trying to get her back that now that I finally have her, I am terrified of doing something stupid enough to lose her again.

I have no idea when I became so bad at this.

Back in high school and my early college years, I could pull any girl I wanted. Just like in hockey, I could read a game in seconds. I knew when to attack, when to defend, when to take a risk, and when to hold back.

But when it comes to Emma?

Apparently, all those skills disappear.

I pull up outside her apartment building and send her a quick message that I'm here.

It takes her less than five minutes to appear. And the second she steps out of the building, I forget every single thought I had been having.

She stops when she sees me, her eyes slowly traveling over my clothes.

Yeah, call me dramatic, but I'm wearing a dark three-piece suit.

Emma stares at me for a second with an expression I can't quite read. Suddenly, I feel ridiculous for dressing up so much.

Then she looks up at me. “Are you serious?”

I glance down at myself. “What?”

“I didn't expect you to pull up in an actual suit.”

“It's a date, baby. What was I supposed to wear?” I raise an eyebrow.

“I don't know. Something still nice, but maybe a little less... royal wedding?”

I can't stop the laugh that escapes me. “It's not that bad.”

“Dylan, you're wearing a vest.”

“It's part of the suit.”

“I know what a vest is.”

She walks around to the passenger side, still shaking her head. “You know you don't have to impress me, right?”

“I know.” I wait until she gets inside before looking at her. “I just want to.”

Her expression changes immediately. The teasing smile on her face softens, and a faint blush begins to spread across her cheeks.

I smile to myself as I pull away from the curb.

“So...” She looks down at my clothes again. “Do you pack a three-piece suit every time you travel?”

“Not quite.”

“Then why do you have one?”

I keep my eyes on the road. “Maybe I had a feeling something like this would happen.”

She turns to stare at me. “You had a feeling we would get back together?”

“Maybe.”

“That's incredibly arrogant.”

“It's called being prepared.”

“What if we never got back together?”

I don't answer immediately. The thought makes something inside my chest tighten.

I reach across the center console and place my hand on her knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I don't want to imagine that we didn't.”

Her teasing expression softens. For half the drive, neither of us says anything. I don't want to disturb her, especially since she seems to be enjoying the view outside the window.

“You still haven't told me where we're going.” She eventually turns to me, breaking the silence. “We've been on the road for almost thirty minutes.”

I smile, glancing at her. “I forgot how impatient you are.”

“I'm not impatient.”

“You absolutely are.”

“I'm just...” She looks down at herself. “Being next to you makes me feel underdressed.”

I glance at her outfit. She looks absolutely beautiful in her green gown, like always.

“I thought this was going to be a random, playful outing,” she continues. “I didn't take your ‘go get dressed’ seriously.”

“It doesn't matter.”

She looks at me.

“You're still going to be the prettiest person in the room to me, no matter what you're wearing.”

Her cheeks turn pink again and that makes me smile.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are today?”

She immediately turns toward me.

“No.”

I laugh.

“No, you haven't. Tell me.”

I take her hand from her lap and bring it to my mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“Gladly.”

We reach a red light, and I stop the car.

I keep holding her hand.

“You're beautiful in a way that makes it difficult to explain what I'm thinking.”

She raises an eyebrow. “That's a very dramatic start.”

“I'm not finished.”

“Clearly.”

I turn her hand over, tracing my thumb over her palm.

“Your face is the first thing I notice every time I see you, even when I try not to. Your eyes are impossible. They make you look like you're always thinking of something you probably shouldn't be thinking about.”

She laughs. “That's not true.”

“It is.”

“It isn't.”

“Emma.”

“Fine.”

I smile before continuing.

“I love your smile. I love the way it changes your whole face when you're genuinely happy. I love the way you try to hide it when you're pretending to be annoyed with me, even though I can always tell you're about to laugh.”

Her smile slowly grows.

“I love your hair, even when you complain about it. I love the way you look when you've just woken up and you're still half asleep and completely unaware of how beautiful you are.”

She stares at me now.

“And I love the way you look when you're angry.”

Her eyebrows rise. “You love when I'm angry?”

“I didn't say I love when you're angry.”

“You literally just said you do.”

“I said I love the way you look.”

“That is not better.”

I laugh.

“But you are beautiful when you're angry. You're beautiful when you're laughing, when you're crying, when you're exhausted, when you're trying to act like you don't care about something you clearly care about.”

Her expression softens.

“You're beautiful when you're being impossible. Which is often.”

She gasps. “Dylan.”

“I'm being honest.”

“You're ruining the compliment.”

“I'm not finished.”

I lift her hand to my lips again.

“You are beautiful when you're being a mother. I've watched you with Dawn, Emma. I've seen the way you look at her. The way you hold her. The way you worry about her even when she's perfectly fine. There's something about you when you're loving someone that makes it impossible to look away.”

Her eyes grow softer.

“And maybe that's what I love most about you.”

My voice lowers.

“You give so much of yourself to the people you love. Even when you're tired. Even when you're hurt. Even when you have every reason to walk away.”

Her fingers tighten around mine.

“You are beautiful because you're you. Not because of what you're wearing or how you look when you walk into a room. You could show up in pajamas with your hair all over the place, and I would still look at you and think...” I smile. “There she is.”

Her lips part slightly.

“My girl.”

The words make her blush harder.

I bring her hand to my mouth again.

“And you're so beautiful that sometimes I look at you and start thinking about things I probably shouldn't be thinking about in the middle of traffic.”

Her eyes widen. “Dylan.”

“What?”

“Don't.”

I grin. “I was just going to say that you're so beautiful it makes me want to do sinful things.”

“Dylan!”

I laugh.

“Possibly even give Dawn a little brother or sister.”

She gasps and snatches her hand away from me.

“Shut up!”

I burst out laughing.

“The light is green!”

I look ahead and immediately realize she's right.

“Right.”

I change gears and start moving again, still laughing.

Emma folds her arms, trying very hard to look offended.

“You are unbelievable.”

I glance at her. “But you still love me.”

She tries to hold onto her expression. Then the corner of her mouth twitches.

I smile. “Thought so.”

She rolls her eyes and looks out the window, but I catch the smile she is trying to hide.

And suddenly, the nervousness I had been carrying all morning begins to disappear.

Maybe I don't need to know exactly where this date is going. Maybe I don't need the perfect plan or the perfect words.

Maybe all I need is Emma beside me.

I reach for her hand again.

Her fingers slip easily into mine, and I hold on to them, quietly grateful when she doesn't pull away.

There is something about holding her hand that makes everything inside me settle.

Like, somehow, after all this time...

I'm home.