What is it with guys and action movies? I suppose this is what I get for letting Peter pick the movie. Not that it matters. I'm not really watching it anyway.

He looks too perfect in a vest and tie. My heart still flutters at the thought that he dressed up for our date, even though we just went to the movies. To think that I have such a handsome, successful boyfriend.

As soon as we found our seats, Peter put the armrest up between us so that he could be closer to me. I want to be close to him, too. Oh so close.

We're almost an hour into the movie, and I couldn't even tell you what's going on. All I can think about is how my dreams have finally come true, and that this is the start of an entirely new life for me. If things go well, Peter and I will eventually get married, and I'll have my happily ever after. The thought is so exciting it's almost too much to bear.

“Are you alright?” Peter catches me looking at him for the umpteenth time.

“Mhm.” I nod and turn away, still staring out of my peripheral vision.

My eyes keep dropping to his lips, and I wonder if I'll be kissing them later. The thought of kissing him...it does so much to me. So many unspeakably naughty things.

Peter scoots closer, and he does the classic stretch which turns into him putting his arm around my shoulder. I lean into him, feeling the warmth of his body. My pulse races just from being by his side.

The movie is over way too soon, and when we start to walk out of the theater, he takes my hand. A blush spreads across my cheeks from the affection. I honestly never in a million years thought he'd be like this.

Caleb painted him as a cruel, heartless asshole. But Peter's nothing like that. There's not even a shred of the man he is at work when we're alone together. He's so human and real and...just amazing. Simply amazing.

“Did you like the movie?” he asks as we walk toward his car.

“Mhm.” I nod. “I can't believe that guy killed his son.” It's the only thing I remember. The only part I briefly paid attention to.

“That was a twist, wasn't it?” His eyes widen.

My God, he has to be the most gorgeous man who has ever walked the face of this planet. And he's mine. All mine.

“Yeah, it was a twist.” Like us actually ending up together. Everything seems so surreal, but it has to be because this is new to me.

“Well, it's kind of late.” Peter glances up at the stars. “I suppose we should go home.”

My heart shoots up to my throat as I catch the implication of his words. Home. Home doesn't mean home. Home means sex.

My palms instantly begin to sweat, and a million different things race through my mind at once. In the forefront is Caleb telling me that Peter is a player. If we have sex now, will he get bored with me and kick me to the curb? I don't want that. Besides, we just started dating, so it would be irrational to jump into bed this quickly.

But will he think I'm a prude if I say no? I don't want to turn him off by making him think that I don't want him. Because that's certainly not the case. I do want him. I want him inside of me so badly. But I just can't risk losing him.

I try not to let my emotions reach my face as I torture myself over what to say. It feels like a no-win situation. I don't know what the right answer is, so I need to think with my heart, not my head.

I don't want to rush things. This is the first relationship I've ever been in that I've really cared about nurturing, and for that reason, I need to be true to myself.

“I think it's a little bit early for that,” I hesitantly mutter, fearing his reaction.

“Oh.” He seems surprised. “Well, we both have work in the morning. But if you want, I suppose we could go get coffee at Jim's or something.”

I'm confused, wondering if I read him wrong. “You meant dropping me off at my apartment, right?”

“What did you think I meant?” He quirks his head back.

Now I feel like an idiot. “I thought...” I shake my head. “Never mind. Yeah, coffee would be great.”

Conversation at the diner is sparse and a bit awkward. Peter mostly talks about the movie, and I listen. We don't linger for long, and when he asks me if I'm ready to go home, I agree and don't question him about it. He drops me off in front of my apartment, not even offering me a goodnight kiss. I'm amazed at how much of a gentleman he is. Again, completely different from how Caleb described him to be.

By the time I'm in the elevator heading up to the third floor, I'm swooning. I can't remember the last time a first date went so well. Peter is everything I ever wanted and more. I just can't get over it.

I walk in a dreamlike state towards my apartment and put the key in the lock. The door behind me opens, but I don't turn around. It's almost like Caleb's not even there.

“Hey,” he calls my name to get my attention. It's not until he puts his hand on my shoulder that I acknowledge him, a stupid grin plastered across my face. He looks mildly disturbed. “Well, I guess I don't need to ask how the date went.”

“Oh, Caleb.” It's all I can say before he holds a bottle up in front of my face.

“I brought you your body wash. You left it at my place earlier.”

I take it from him, and he immediately pivots to go back into his apartment.

“Wait.” I reach out to him, needing someone to gush to. I have to tell him everything. Everything about how perfect the date was—about how perfect Peter is.

“What?” He casts a glance over his shoulder.

“Don't you want to come over? I have so much to tell you.” I sigh to myself as memories of the night flood my brain like a pleasant montage.

“Not really.” His response is clipped.

Suddenly, I realize that something is wrong.

“Are you alright?” my tone softens in concern.

“Peachy. Just tired is all.” His shoulders slump.

“It won't take long.” I give him a hopeful look.

Caleb turns to me. “Listen, I'm glad you had a good night. I just...can't right now.”

I stand there speechless as he disappears back into his apartment. He's acting strange. Grumpy. I wonder if something happened at the gym today, but it's obvious he doesn't want to talk about it.

I'm a bit disappointed that I have no one to tell my adventures to. I could call my sisters, but they wouldn't really understand. They don't know Peter, so they can't fully share in my joy. Not in the way I would like them to, at least.

I like that Peter and Caleb and I have a connection, that I can talk to Caleb about anything and he'll understand because he helped our relationship come together—to blossom into what it is. And I'll be eternally grateful. I want to share all of my happiness with him—to show him that it was totally worth it. That all of his hard work paid off.

I decide to try him again the next day, heading over as soon as I get off from work in the hopes that he'll be home. I knock on the door, and he peeks out, looking past me as if he expects someone else to be around.

“Hey there, neighbor. I was wondering if you'd like to play a game of chess,” I say in my most cheerful voice.

“Chess,” he parrots. The heaviness from last night is still lingering. I can see it in his slightly furrowed brow and the darkness of his eyes.

“You're not busy, are you? Got a lady friend in there?” I tease, glancing past him.

He closes the door against his body so that I can't see. “No. No lady friend.”

“Then spend time with me. I miss you.” I pout.

“You just saw me yesterday.”

“It's not the same. Stop being a grump. Besides, hanging out with me will probably make you feel better.” I make a silly face at him, and he finally smiles. “See. Only a few moments in my presence and you're already in a better mood.”

He shakes his head at me before opening the door. “Fine. One game.”

“One game,” I do my best mocking Caleb impression as I step past him.

His apartment is dirtier than normal. There's a canister of protein powder on his kitchen counter and pans on the stove. It seems like he's let the place go these past few days.

Caleb goes to retrieve the chess board from his bedroom and meets me in the living room where I help him set the game up. The entire time, I wait for him to ask me about my date, but he doesn't.

As usual, he plays offensively, and it doesn't take me long to put him in checkmate. He curses under his breath and shakes his head. This is the first time I've ever seen him get frustrated so quickly, and it's a bit worrisome. Something definitely isn't right with him.

“What's wrong?” I ask in my most serious voice.

“I can't beat you.” He gestures at the board in annoyance.

“It doesn't seem like you're really even trying,” I mumble.

“Give me some pointers. I taught you how to play tennis. Now you teach me how to be a better chess player.”

I blink at him a few times. Teaching people has never been my forte.

My eyes scan across the board, and I try to come up with something useful, but I really don't know what to tell him besides what I already have. “You just need to watch the entire board. Anticipate the player's next move before they even make it. Carefully analyze what you're going to do and think about the consequences of your actions before you take them.”

He cocks his head to the side, giving me a sarcastic look. “Do you think I don't already do that?”

I inhale deeply, trying to think of something better to tell him, but I've got nothing. “All I can tell you then is to practice. Just like practicing sports will eventually make me better at them, practicing chess will eventually make you better at it.”

“Speaking of which.” He starts setting up for the next game, even though he said we were only going to play one. “Are you letting yourself go now that you finally landed Peter?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” My head juts back in offense.

“I haven't seen you at the gym, and your car is always parked out front after work, so I assume you haven't been going to the batting cages either.”

“Are you stalking me?” I tease him.

“I'm making an observation,” he snaps.

I lean away from him slightly. “Are you okay? You're acting kind of weird.”

He sighs, drawing his hand up to his face for a moment. “I'm fine. I'm sorry.”

“It's alright," I say, though I'm a bit hurt that he won't just spit out what's wrong. Whatever it is, it must be deeply personal to him.

“Seriously, though, have you decided to stop working out?” Caleb glances up at me.

“Of course not. I've just been...busy lately.” It's no excuse. He's right. I totally have been slacking.

“Becky asked me if I would be her personal trainer. She can't afford to pay me.” He makes another thoughtless move, one that will cost him the game. “I told her that if she sticks to this mini-routine I gave her, I'll train her for free.”

“Is that good?” I stare at my pieces, wondering if I should play poorly to extend the game. I don't want him pitching a fit if I beat him within a few moves again.

“I was thinking that if you started going to the gym with her, I could train you both at the same time...for free.”

“Ha!” I lean back.

Caleb gives me a puzzled look.

“Do you really think I'm going to hang out with that witch? She already tried to steal my boyfriend, and we've barely started dating.”

He chews his bottom lip, suddenly seeming distant.

“Seriously. What's wrong with you?” I slap his knee to get his attention.

“You're going to beat me again.” His eyes lock on my queen and follow it all the way back to his knight that's blocking the path to where his king is trapped with no protection.

“See. You're already getting better.” I smile at him. “You caught my next move, albeit a bit late.”

“I'm always late...to everything,” he says, and I get the feeling that he's not talking about the chess game.

* * *

“Congratulations!”

It's the first thing that Becky says to me when I sit beside her at work the next day.

“For what?” I glance at her suspiciously.

“Peter confirmed that you're dating, so I believe you now.” She bobs her head like a stupid doll.

“Thanks?” I reply hesitantly.

“You shouldn't get too comfortable with him, though.” She gives me a deceptively sweet smile.

“And why is that?” I swivel my chair to face her, showing her that I'm not going to take any of her shit today.

“Because it's not going to last.” She plays the part of the innocent concerned friend.

“And how would you know that?” I cross my arms over my chest.

“Because he's too good for you.”

I inhale deeply to steady myself...because I just want to strangle her to death right now. Then an idea pops into my head. “You know, I could tell Caleb not to be your personal trainer.”

“He told you about that?” She perks up, seemingly happy about the threat.

“Yeah. He told me.” I glower at her. “He told me we should start going to the gym together, too.”

She sulks in her chair a bit. “I was supposed to tell you about that. I'm sorry I didn't.”

“I have a feeling you're not really sorry.”

“Miss Stroop, can I see you in my office?” Peter comes out of left field, a grin plastered across his face.

Normally, I would think I was in trouble. But his expression tells me that's not the case.

I give Becky my best fake smile as I follow my boyfriend back to his office. As soon as we're inside, he closes the door and turns to me.

“What's this about?” I ask, confused about why he'd want to see me so early in the morning.

“I was thinking we could go out on another date tonight.” He rocks on his heels.

I beam from the invitation. “I would love that.”

Peter holds out his palm, suddenly looking concerned. “It's not too soon to ask, is it? I don't want to smother you.”

“No. Of course not.” There's no way he could ever smother me. I'm so elated that he couldn't wait to ask me. It must mean he really likes me.

“I was thinking we could play tennis.”

“No!” the word comes out of my mouth before I can ever stop it.

“No?” He quirks his head back. “But I thought you liked tennis.”

Uh oh. Recovery mode.

“I do like tennis.” It's a half-truth. I like playing tennis with Caleb. Not so much with Peter. I doubt he'll take it any easier on me now that we're dating, and since I've been out of the gym for a while, I'm not sure I can handle the intense cardio of trying to keep up with him. “But I really need to get some swinging practice in for the baseball team. How about we go to the batting cages instead.”

“Oh. That sounds fun, too.” He nods.

Good. Something where I won't have to exert myself so much and it won't feel like a competition.

After work, I run home to get changed before Peter comes to pick me up and we head to the batting cages. I can't decide if I like him better dressed down or dressed up. He's handsome both ways, and I could just stare at him longingly for hours.

I had forgotten about our different skill levels until we actually walk inside of the complex and have to pick which cage to bat in. By the grace of God, all of the fast pitching cages are taken, so we're forced to pick one more at my speed. I smile at my good fortune as Peter allows me to go first, pushing a token into the slot before stepping outside of the cage.

I'm halfway through my first round of balls when I hear an annoyingly familiar voice that makes the hair on the back of my neck prickle. It completely disrupts my focus, and I miss almost every ball before the machine runs out.

“Well I'll be.” Becky saunters up to Peter, stopping just a foot short of him. Close. Too close. “I guess the rumors are really true.”

I fly out of the cage to stand by Peter's side the second the last ball is pitched to me. Peter seems uncomfortable, looking at everything but Becky.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. Seriously, what are the fucking odds? I feel like she's stalking us.

“My brother plays baseball, so I'm here with my family.” She glances back at a cage across the complex. “I saw you guys, so I thought I'd come hang out.”

You're not welcome here. I seethe beneath my skin.

“Shouldn't you be spending time with your family.” Peter saves me from saying something, though he's being much more subtle and nice than I would have been.

Becky rocks on her heels, entwining her fingers together in front of her. I want to punch the pouty look right off of her face. “They're boring and I never get to bat because it's all about my brother.”

“I see,” Peter replies coldly, as if to silently say that's not his problem.

“I was wondering if I could play with you guys.” She finally comes out with it, totally unabashed by the fact that she's ruining our date.

I suck in a deep breath, screaming on the inside. I turn my gaze to Peter, but he seems indifferent. It's obvious he's leaving the ball in my court on this one.

What do I do? Do I play the petty bitch and tell her to go away? What would Peter think if I did that? Or should I show him that I'm the better person and let her stay? I only want him to think the best of me.

“Sure,” I reply between clenched teeth, hating my decision even as the word slips from my mouth.

“Oh, awesome. Thanks.” She perks up as if she hadn't expected me to say yes. Hell, I hadn't either. “I'm a little rusty. Could you help me with my form, Peter?” She takes a step to the side to be closer to him, and my temper instantly flares.

Oh hell no. This is not happening. I'm going to have to take care of this, and there's only one way I know how to do it diplomatically.