When I open my dorm door after taking a shower, there’s a bouquet of different-colored daisies in a beautiful vase on my dresser. Jessa smiles over at me through the ladder of my bed, anticipating my reaction.

“When did these come?” I lean over and smell my favorite flowers.

“While you were in the shower. The florist delivered them.” She’s beaming more than me.

I grab the note from the bouquet, and my name is scripted in a guy’s handwriting on the white envelope.

I hold the card to my chest, fawning over Brady Carsen.

“Do I even want to know?” Jessa holds her hand out for the card.

Clutching it in my grasp, I giggle. “It’s private.”

“Come on, Sadie,” Jessa pleads, impatiently flexing her hand.

“Fine.”

I place the small piece of paper in her hand, and she reads it.

“Should have known a singer would write some romantic crap.” She gives it back to me. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” She still believes he was with another girl on Friday night.

I trust Brady when he said he wasn’t. I just wish I knew where he was. Having secrets of my own refrains me from asking him.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I say with a smile, reassuring her. Hiding the note in my top drawer, I go over to my closet to find something to wear.

“Where are you going?” Jessa asks, putting her book down and turning on the television.

“He never said,” I answer, continuing to sift through my hangers. I finally decide on a red dress that flares out at the waist in a series of pleats, paired with black heels. I grab a matching set of red panties and a bra. Even though Brady will not be seeing them tonight, they make me feel sexy.

My blonde hair curls in waves that travel down my back with a pin pulling the front part off my face. Although I choose to do my makeup a little darker and more dramatic than on Friday, I still don’t use the dark red lipstick.

It’s five forty-five. I’m dressed and ready, sitting next to Jessa, while she flips through channels, waiting for Brady’s call to say that he’s outside. Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. Jessa and I share a puzzled look, and she gets up. She opens the door, revealing Brady standing on the other side with his hands in his pockets, rolling back on his heels.

I might have actually stopped breathing for a moment due to his appearance alone.

He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans with a red shirt and a black leather jacket. His hair is loose and free of gel, pushed to the side. He peers past Jessa and smiles over to me, making me melt in desire.

I rise up and walk toward him.

“You look even more amazing than I imagined.”

“Thank you. You look great, too.” I smile back.

“Shall we?” He holds out his hand.

“Please, before I throw up,” Jessa answers his question, walking back to her seat in front of the television. She grabs the remote, and channels begin flicking from one to the other.

“Bye, Jessa.” I grab my clutch from next to the flowers on the dresser.

“Bye, guys.” She waves her hand, not looking our way.

“See ya, Jessa. Hey, Robbie wants you to give him a call,” Brady shouts toward her.

“Whatever,” she mumbles, her thumb mindlessly pressing on the remote.

He shuts the door, and when we enter the hallway, I notice a couple of girls milling around, obviously trying to check out whom Brady is here to pick up. When we start walking down the hall, they quickly scurry like scared rabbits, whispering to each other.

Brady puts his hand on the small of my back, and the shivers climb up my back, as usual. He leads me through the door of the dorm, and his Camaro is parked outside with his hazards on. He’s probably trying to avoid another parking ticket.

“You could have called. I would have come out,” I say while he opens the door for me.

“Sadie, this is a date. I’m not some shmuck who waits in the car for you to hop in.”

He closes the door once I’m securely in the seat, and as I admire him walking around the front of the car, I’m surprised by how special I feel from his chivalry.

He climbs into his side.

“So, where are we going?” I pull my dress closer to my knees. Now that I’m seated, I think it’s entirely too short, especially for a first date.

“It’s a surprise.”

He leans over to me. I panic.

This is it. He’s going to kiss me now.

Stretching his arm over me, he grabs my seat belt, his fingers grazing across my breasts, and pushes it in the clip.

“Sorry, I forgot.” A wave of heat rises up my neck.

“Don’t apologize. I quite enjoyed it.” He winks at me and inserts the key into the ignition.

Brady drives away from campus and into Cleveland. Being so close to two different cities was a major perk for me when I decided to attend. Western positioned in equal distance to two metropolitan cities is a bonus since Western itself is mostly just a college town.

Brady has a CD in that I’ve never heard before. His fingers hit the steering wheel to the beat. His wrist is empty of the black leather bracelets tonight, slightly disappointing me.

“Do you like tapas?” he asks me, bringing my attention to him.

“Truthfully, I’ve never had them,” I confess.

“Really? That surprises me.” He glances over to me and then to the road again.

“Why does that surprise you?”

“I just figured, I would have nothing new to introduce you to. That you have pretty much experienced…everything,” he responds, making me believe that he struggled with planning this date.

“You would be astonished by what I haven’t experienced.”

“I think you’ll like tapas,” he assures me.

I’m positive I’ll love anything as long as he’s involved.

“I’m sure I will.” I smile over at him.

We pull up to a small building. He opens my door and escorts me into the intimate restaurant. Inside, there are only about fifteen tables and a bar along one wall. The friendly hostess guides us in the corner by the window, placing our menus on the table. I’m glad he didn’t pick an ultra fancy restaurant. That only screams, You’d better be in my bed by the end of the night.

Brady pulls out my chair and then takes his seat across the table.

A guy about our age fills our water glasses, informing us that his name is Sergio and he’ll be our waiter. He suggests we try the sangria, so I order one, and Brady does, too, but nonalcoholic. With how defensive he became with Rob the other night, I don’t question his drink choice.

“Do you see anything you like?” Brady asks me, perusing the menu.

“I think I’ll take your lead on this. How about something with shrimp?”

“You pick three things, I’ll pick three, and we can share.”

After a lot of debate in my head, I pick a shrimp and two vegetables while Brady picks three meat tapas.

After my first sangria, I switch to water for two reasons. The first one is, I don’t want to appear to be a lush. The second reason is, I need to stay alert on this date.

As we sit back in our seats, waiting for our food, I drill Brady with questions. “So, tell me, do you plan on making a go of it with The Invisibles?”

“Um…no.” He leans back, hesitant to answer the question. “I love music, and I’ll miss it, but I don’t want it as my career.”

“Do the others know that?”

“Yeah, Trey and Hulk are enrolled in school, too. It’s only Rob who seems to want to pursue the dream of rock ’n’ roll. He left school last year with only a year left, and I’ve been trying to get him to enroll for the spring semester.”

“That’s nice of you. What’s your major?” I ask him since he never told me even though Grant did.

“Engineering. Yours?” he asks in return.

“What kind of engineering?” I dodge his question.

“Civil. Again, what’s yours?”

He’s persistent, isn’t he?

“Why engineering?” I spit out another question.

“I love to build things. Always have,” he answers. “Now, what is your major?”

“Guess,” I say.

“Hmm…” He contemplates. “Education? No, that’s not it.” He pretends to think some more. “Design? No, not that either.” He puts his finger to his lips, smirking over to me. “How about psychology?” He smiles because he already knew the answer.

How does he know so much about me?

“How did you know?” I ask, shocked.

“My secret. I don’t know what you plan to do with it though.” His tone becomes serious again.

“I haven’t decided. I hate the idea of being in school anymore, but I would love to counsel people,” I reveal.

“So, you haven’t applied for graduate school yet?” This concerned look crosses his face, the same one when he was talking about Rob going back to school.

“No, I decided I’m going to take a year off.”

“Where did you say you were from again?” he asks innocently.

Fear settles inside me.

I can’t decide if I should continue lying or start telling the truth. I’m not ready to tell him yet, but I don’t want to straight-up lie either. If I tell him where I’m from, he could Google my name and the city, and he’ll find out with one click why I ran away from there.

Thankfully, the food comes just before I’m about to spit the truth out.

But Brady can’t be detoured. After Sergio leaves the plates and we start picking at the food, he asks me again.

“Um…I don’t care to talk about my past.” I go the honest route, hoping he’ll respect it.

“I understand. You tell me what you want. If I pry too much, let me know. But, Sadie?” He waits for me to lift my head so that I’m giving him my full attention. “At some point, I want you to trust me enough to tell me everything, okay?” he says.

I nod.

“I’m from Maryland,” I reply, divulging the truth.

“Huh,” he says. He must remember I lied previously to him, but he doesn’t call me out on it. “Did you leave both parents behind?” He cuts up his meat.

“Yes, my parents are married, living in Maryland and wondering what the hell I’m doing down here,” I confess, making it seem too easy to let him through my wall.

“Why did you transfer schools with only one year left?” His body shifts, and his eyes remain focused on his meal, signaling he knows this is a bad question, but he’s trying to figure out how far he can dig.

“Too much prying,” I inform him.

He picks up his head, nodding in confirmation.

“What about you?”

“Let’s see. As you already know, I’ve lived here my whole life. My parents are divorced. My mom lives in Florida, and my dad is still around. I live off-campus with Rob, Trey, and Hulk. That’s about it.” He pops a shrimp into his mouth, smiling.

“You make it sound so simple.” I admire him.

“Oh, believe me, my life is anything but simple,” he admits.

I wonder what couldn’t be perfect in his life.

We lighten up the conversation after that, talking about music and movies. Besides eighties music, the only other thing we have in common is that we both love horror films.

After we finish dinner, Brady pays the bill and escorts me out of the small restaurant. Butterflies fill my stomach when he grabs my hand outside and guides me back to the car.

We only drive a few miles down the road to an area called The Flats, where bars fill each side of the road. I’ve never actually been here, but I have wanted to go since I came to Western. He parks in one of the vacant lots, paying the parking fee to a man.

When Brady opens the door for me to get out, he wraps his arms around my body. The hug encompasses his warmth around me, and from the way it lingers, I’m hoping this is when his lips will meet mine.

“I’m really betting that, when you pleaded the Fifth, it was because you enjoy eighties music.” He twists my body around to face the bar across the street where a big sign across the entrance reads, Monday—Eighties Night.

“I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?” I smirk over at him, and he wraps his arms around me, pulling me in closer.

This is it. He’s going to kiss me.

His mouth draws closer to mine, and I suck in a breath, licking my lips in anticipation. Right as the moistness is about to brush along mine, he slowly moves to my cheek. My shoulders fall, and I sway closer to him, if that’s even possible.

“You have no idea how much I want to feel your body against mine.” He kisses my cheek, right next to my ear, his lips lingering there, while he grabs my hand.

Then, turning on a dime, he leads me toward the bar. I stagger to regain my balance behind him as my heart picks up another beat. He’s been teasing me, and I fall for it every time.

We enter the bar, and I’m pleased to find a mix of different ages, not just the usual drunken college kids.

Brady guides me past a couple of tables, taking one right next to the large dance area. You wouldn’t think the dance floor would be overflowing with couples when so many tables are vacant. There aren’t groups of girls and guys on either side of the bar, but rather, everyone seems to be a couple.

“Total Eclipse of the Heart” by Bonnie Tyler plays over the speakers while couples dance, holding each other close.

Brady motions for me to sit in a chair and then takes the seat across from me. His smile hasn’t faltered all night, and I’m enjoying how easygoing his personality is. The waitress comes by, looking him up and down, but his eyes never leave mine as I give my order. He’s polite to the waitress, ordering his drink and thanking her, but he gives her no other attention. Either he’s oblivious to women checking him out, or he has the rare courtesy not to look at another woman while he’s on a date. And the waitress is young and attractive, even I noticed her.

The tall brunette brings our drinks, and I take a small sip of my vodka tonic while Brady drinks his water. Since I have met him, he hasn’t had one drink. This spurs a red light for me.

Is he a recovering alcoholic, like Jessa asked? Could this be another lie I find him in?

“How come you never drink?” I ask, silently wishing I had a filter at times.

His head cocks back, but he composes himself quickly. “I do, but I’m driving tonight. I’d never put you in harm’s way.” He glances at me and then turns toward the dance floor.

I can’t help but feel he’s keeping something from me.

“One drink wouldn’t hurt,” I offer.

“That’s what a lot of people think.” His voice goes cold, confirming I struck a chord.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you,” I say softly, swirling the straw around in my drink.

The fun atmosphere and night quickly goes sour due to my incessant need for answers.

“You didn’t. It’s just, everyone always asks…” he says before trailing off. Then, abruptly, his chair scoots across the floor. Standing up, he holds out his hand to me. “Let’s dance.”

“Footloose” by Kenny Loggins begins playing while men swing their partners around.

Suddenly, I’m incredibly nervous. With only a couple of sips of my drink, I’m way too sober to dance, especially in front of Brady, a guy I’m already doing a poor job of impressing. I press my heels to the ground in front of the wood planks and give Brady a small shake of my head, but he grins and pulls me harder.

Reluctantly, I follow, dragging my feet, while Brady leads us to the center of the room. We’re camouflaged here in the mix of people, and I start to become more comfortable. I move from side to side, displaying my lack of dance skills. As much as it scares me to be close to Brady, I’d rather be slow dancing than showing my lack of ability to follow a beat.

Brady must notice my discomfort because he steps closer to me. Wrapping his arm around my waist, he rests his hand on the small of my back, drawing me into him. Shivers run up my spine as he holds my hand in his, and he leads us around the dance floor in a smooth form of the box step. My shoulders fall, my heartbeat slows, and a calm feeling absorbs me.

Then, he pushes me away, still holding my hand in his. When he pulls me back to him, my body smacks into his chest, and his hands fall to my waist, catching me. I nervously laugh. As much as I hate to admit it, I think he just discovered that I can’t dance. But, instead of letting me go, he pushes me out again. This time, I attempt to come back more gracefully, and when I do, a low smile crosses my face as I think that maybe I’m a quick learner.

We dance for another three songs before I call for a break, and he guides me off the floor. My cheeks hurt from the constant upturn of smiles and laughter that Brady evokes. He holds the chair out for me, like the gentleman he appears to be, and I tuck my dress under me and take a seat. My drink is completely watered down, and since we were gone from the table for so long, I’m wary to drink it.

The cute brunette comes by and asks Brady if we want something else, never glancing my way. He looks over at me for an answer, forcing her eyes to follow his. I tell her I’ll take a water, and Brady asks for the same.

A couple of minutes later, she brings bottles of water and two glasses of ice. Brady twists my cap off and pours it into the glass for me.

I’m impressed. “Your mom raised you well,” I compliment his chivalry.

“Actually, it was my dad. He always told me to treat a girl the way I’d want my daughter to be treated.” One side of his mouth goes up while he places my bottle down and picks up his own.

“Sounds like a wise man.”

“Yeah.” He stares off toward the dance floor again.

It’s another moment where my digging has turned him away. I’m starting to think Brady Carsen could have more secrets than me.

“Where do The Invisibles play next?” I try to divert the topic to something other than family. God knows I don’t care to talk about mine.

“Are you going to come?” He turns his head my way and smiles, as though there wasn’t an awkward silence a moment ago.

“I don’t know. Their music is okay, but the lead singer is so incredibly…what’s the word?” I jokingly look up at the ceiling and scrunch the side of my mouth up.

“Hot?” Brady asks.

“No, that’s not it,” I say, pretending to think.

“Talented?” He smirks over at me.

“Nope.” I smile.

“Amazing?” He laughs.

“He’s kind of…kind of a stalker,” I joke before sucking my lips in to conceal my giggle.

“From what I hear, he sees what he wants and goes after it.” He places his elbows on the table and leans toward me, making my breathing halt.

“What do you think he wants?” I question, my heart beating uncontrollably.

“I heard that he’s completely infatuated with this incredibly beautiful girl. Hold on…I know her name…just give me a minute.” He taps his finger to his lips, as though he’s thinking hard.

“What a lucky girl.” I play his game.

“I know, right? I mean, Brady Carsen is, like, the best catch.” He mimics his best girl voice. “I think her name is Sadie. Yeah, that’s it. Sadie Miller. Do you know her?” He leans in further.

“Yeah, I do. What on earth would he see in her? They’re so different. Surely, his friends would disapprove,” I continue to joke, but Brady’s face drops.

Picking back up, he answers, “Are you kidding me? Sadie walks into a room, and every guy turns. From what he’s told me, she’s not only gorgeous, but she’s also smart and funny. She seems like the complete package with an amazing body to boot. As far as his friends, he couldn’t give a shit about what they think, and he wishes she wouldn’t either.” His brown eyes get a little darker as they pierce into me from across the table.

I sit there, mute.

Thankfully, “The Lady in Red” by Chris de Burgh fills the room, and Brady takes my hand. “The last song of the evening, and how fitting it is…my lady in red.”

He nudges his hand on my back and leads me to the dance floor. Wrapping his arms around me, he rests his hands on the small of my back. I contemplate on where to place my hands, and I ultimately rest them around his neck. We sway back and forth to one of my all-time favorite songs.

Brady holds me close to his chest, and my eyes automatically close. As I drink him in, I let the beat of the music dictate my body’s moves. He softly sings the words in my ear as he leads me around the floor. His cheek presses against mine. It’s as though we are the only two people in the room. My heart beats out of control with his warm hands around me and his soft breath on my neck. I swear, his lips graze slightly against my neck, and I ache for them to meet mine.

In this moment, I admit to myself, I want him…I want him to be mine.

As the song comes to an end, Brady doesn’t sing the last line, telling me he loves me. Instead, he tightly hugs me, lifting my feet from the ground. “Thank you for the most incredible date I’ve ever been on.” He kisses my cheek again before he releases me.

If I hadn’t had my aha moment a second earlier, it would have happened now.

On our way out of the bar, I’m on cloud nine from my date with Brady. The waitress looks at me as well as Brady and tells us to have a good night.

We don’t talk much on the way home, but Brady holds my hand, rubbing his thumb across my fingers. It’s a comfortable silence, and I can’t believe how sweet of a guy he is. When he glances over at me, we exchange smiles. The ride back to my dorm is too short.

I don’t want to say good night to him, but I’ll never ask him to stay. The thought of him leaving me tomorrow after I’ve slept with him is too unbearable. If I’m going to keep him in my life, I need to keep the bedroom out of this.

Brady parks the car in front of the dorm, and his eyes focus on me. For a brief moment, I think he’s going to ask me to go home with him, and I’m not sure I’ll have the willpower to say no.

Instead, he opens the door and steps out. When he reaches my door, my body protests leaving the safe Camaro cocoon, but I get out and accept the hand he offers. He entwines our fingers, and we slowly walk toward the doors, as if neither one of us wants the night to end. Emptiness fills my stomach with every step.

When we reach the door, Brady asks for my keys. I willingly hand them to him, surprising myself. He opens the dorm doors and motions for me to enter before him. Instead of walking down the hall, he turns me into the mail locker alcove to conceal us from passersby. My nerves tingle when my back hits the cold metal mailboxes, and he presses his body against mine, stretching his arm above my head.

This is it. He’s finally going to kiss me. I should’ve popped a mint in my mouth.

His other hand moves up my face, cupping my cheek with his palm, and his thumb lightly brushes over my lips. My vision fixates on his caramel eyes that are filled with want. He tips his head down to me, and before I have a chance to lick in preparation, his lips meet mine. He captures my bottom lip with his. He slides his tongue between my lips, asking to enter, and I allow his tongue access. Our tongues mingle together, tasting the other. His hand tightens around my cheek as he pins me to the locker with his hips. The kiss is slow, sensual, and hot.

Brady slowly closes the kiss but continues to peck me with short, tender ones before he ultimately pulls away, leaving my nerves frazzled.

“This date keeps getting better,” he says softly. He grins down at me.

I smile back. I’m unable to think of a good comeback because, if I open my mouth, I fear that I’ll beg him to do it all over again. That kiss was worth the wait and all the teasing throughout the night.

I push off the mailboxes, and Brady places his arm around my waist, leading me down the hall.

The halls are bare since it’s Monday night and almost everyone has classes tomorrow.

I don’t hear Jessa on the other side of the door, so I assume she’s asleep. The pull to have Brady come in and climb into my bed with me is fierce. I can’t take the chance though. If he weren’t there tomorrow morning, I’d be broken. I fear that, once I give him all of me, he’ll use me, like the others.

“Thank you, Sadie. I had a great time.” He encases me against the door with his arms.

“Me, too,” I agree. “Thank you.” I grip the doorknob behind my back, and I stare up at those eyes that could make me do very bad things.

He gives me a chaste kiss on the lips. “I’ll definitely be dreaming about you tonight.” His eyes roam my body, as though he’s trying to burn the image into his memory.

Holding strong, I wait for my body to calm from his burning eyes.

“Good night, Brady.” I twist the knob before I break down and beg him to come in.

“Good night, Sadie. Sweet dreams.”

I shut the door, and I press my back against it, releasing the breath I was holding.

Confirming my worst fears, I whisper, “I’m in so much trouble.”

Brady Carsen just carved out another piece of my heart.