Until December (Until Her 5)

“Say you’ll give me a shot.” He sits forward, placing his elbows to his knees and looking me in the eye. “Tell me you’re willing to get to know me. Tell me I’m not the only one who feels this fucking”—he shakes his head—“whatever the fuck this is between us.”

“I feel it,” I admit without thinking, and he sits forward.

“That’s good.” He pushes up off the couch and walks toward me. No, scratch that; he prowls like a predator who’s zeroed in on its prey. “I just need a shot. I just need you to tell me you’re open to the idea of getting to know me.”

God, can I do this? Can I put myself out there with him? A guy with two kids—one of whom I already know—and as he put it, an ex who likes to mess with him. I stare into his eyes as he comes closer, and that pull in my belly that exists when he’s around comes to life. My pulse starts to pound so hard I hear it in my ears, giving me my answer.

“One date,” I say, sounding breathless, and his hand comes up like he’s going to touch me.

Before he makes contact, he drops it to his side. “Do you have plans tomorrow evening?”

I never have plans unless one of my family members drags me away from my Kindle and out of the house, so I shake my head then say, “No.”

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 5:30 and take you to dinner.”

“I can meet you.”

His eyes light with humor at my offer and he takes another step closer to me, so close my chest meets his each and every time I take a breath. “It wouldn’t be a date if I didn’t pick you up, so after dinner I can walk you to the door and kiss you good night.” Before I can respond to his statement, he leans in and places his lips to my cheek then leans back to catch my eye. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening, Ember.”

I swear I hear a hint of warning in his tone as I feel the phantom trace of his fingers brush against mine while he steps around me.

I stand in the middle of my living room with my head turned over my shoulder, wearing my goofy nightgown under my coat and watch the door open then shut behind him. “Well.” I let out the breath I was holding. “It seems I’m going on a date tomorrow night,” I mumble to myself while I take off my jacket and walk toward the door.

I start to hang my coat on its hook, when the door opens and Gareth pokes his head inside, ordering “Make sure you lock this.”

Panting with my hand against my chest, I glare at him and hiss, “You just scared me to death.”

He grins then sweeps his eyes over me. “Seriously, that shit is too fucking cute for words.”

“Go home, Gareth.” I walk to the door, putting pressure on it as I place myself behind it, and I hear him laugh as I push it closed and hit the three locks.

With my mind filled with fear and excitement, I head for my bedroom. I don’t know why I do it, but I call April and tell her what happened. I tell her about Gareth cornering me at the restaurant, our argument, him kissing me, and me running off. Then I tell her about him showing up and laying things out about his ex—something that makes my stomach turn even just thinking about.

“So what are you going to wear on your date?” she asks when I finish talking, and I almost laugh. It’s so April to completely forget that she was mad at Gareth not long ago and be concerned about what I’m going to wear on my date.

“I have no idea.”

“I’ll come over tomorrow morning and help you go through your shit. If we don’t find the perfect outfit for you, we have time to hit the mall before and find something there.”

“Have I told you that I love you?”

“Not lately, but I know you do, so it’s all good,” she says, and I know she’s smiling.

“Well, I do. So thanks for listening to me.”

“I’m here anytime you want to talk. You know that,” she adds, and I do know that; it’s just one of the many things I’m thankful for. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bring coffee,” I say before she can hang up, then add, “And breakfast sandwiches from Marco’s.”

“Got it.” She laughs, saying, “Later.”

I start to drop my cell to my bedside table but stop when it buzzes in my hand with an incoming text. I smile when I see hot jerk do not answer on the screen.

I’m looking forward to tomorrow. Sleep well.

My fingers hover over the keyboard of my phone before I finally decide exactly what to say in reply.