Misunderstandings (Woodfalls Girls 2)

“Of course I do. I’m afraid it’s a little fast, and I’m scared about what your mom will think,” I admitted.

“I already told her.”

“You told her?” I asked incredulously. “What did you say? What did she say?” I fired at him in a rush.

“I told her that I asked you to move in with me during the summer. I asked her if that was going to be a problem.”

“What did she say?”

“She said it was my decision to make.”

“She didn’t say it was too soon? That we were making a mistake?” I asked, admitting my own fears.

“I know you think it’s fast, but by summer you’ll feel differently,” he reassured me, patting my leg.

“How can you be so sure?” I asked. I already had butterflies filling my belly and it was months away.

“Because, after the last few weeks together, I know I want that all the time. I like having you with me.”

“What if you get sick of me? What if I get sick of you?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge if it happens. Have you gotten sick of me these past few weeks?”

“Well, no, but that’s because we’re like in the honeymoon stage,” I answered, regretting my words instantly.

“Honeymoon? Who’s rushing things now?” he teased.

“You know what I mean.”

“Trust me. It’ll be okay,” he said, pulling into a parking garage. “We have to hike a little to get there, but parking near the restaurant is almost nonexistent. This parking garage is as close as we will get.”

“That’s fine,” I answered, looking down at my delicate heels. They looked cute, but walking in them more than a few steps would turn them into medieval torture devices.

Justin offered me his arm as we left the garage and headed across the street.

“You okay?” he asked as I stumbled for the third time in less than two minutes.

“Yeah, except these damn heels hate me,” I said, glaring down at the traitors on my feet.

“Can you make it? The restaurant is less than a block away.”

“Sure. I may have to murder the maker of these shoes, but I’ll make it. As long as you promise to visit me in prison, we’re good to go. Of course, I’m sure some butch chick will make me her bitch within the first day.”

“Homicide of uncomfortable shoemakers is accepted, not that I wouldn’t be interested in seeing you with another girl,” he teased.

“You’re such a guy,” I said, swinging at him with my hand. I almost biffed it for the fourth time. It seemed the heels wouldn’t be satisfied until I was a smear on the pavement.

“Here we are,” he chuckled, stopping in front of the restaurant.

“Pink Door? Oh yeah, I’ve heard of this place.”

“Live music, romance. It’s the perfect destination for a New Year’s Eve date,” he said, guiding me into the restaurant.

We stepped inside and the first thing I saw was a woman swinging from a trapeze hanging from the ceiling. There was light jazz music coming from a band onstage. Taking in my surroundings, I was glad I had gone the extra distance on my appearance. Everyone seemed to be dressed to the nines to celebrate the evening.

Justin approached the hostess, who found our reservation and signaled another girl to show us to our table.

“This is amazing,” I commented, removing my jacket and placing it on the back of my chair.