I tug again at the bottom of my shirt as I stare my reflection down in the mirror. This is the third outfit I’ve tried on, and I am now officially getting frustrated. Everything technically looks fine in the bag, but since I’m a ball of nerves, the minute I actually try on the clothes, I look like a hideous ogre.

I go back to brainstorming excuses to cancel, but keep coming up short. Why had I gone back and told Jordan I would go out with him? With a frustrated groan, I fling myself onto my bed.

I am not this kind of girl—the kind of girl who gets nervous about a date and goes out to buy new clothes to make herself feel better. And yet, here I am, surrounded by three shopping bags all filled with clothes that are now too ugly, too boring, too lame. It was stupid to go out shopping. No store sold the perfect outfit for a date with Jordan freaking James.

A knock at my door interrupts my pity fest and I force myself to answer it. Melissa stands outside, and while I would normally be happy to see her, I can only assume she is here to do Daphni’s bidding.

“If Daphni sent you here to convince me not to go, then you can just leave now, Mel," I tell her, before she can even start.

Melissa holds up her hands in defense. “Woah, let’s pause. Daphni did not send me, but I did hear about your date tonight.” She raises her eyebrows suspiciously. “Jordan James?”

Rolling my eyes in response, I move to let her in. “Yes, Jordan James. You know, he’s not like what everyone says, Mel.”

Melissa walks into my room and sits on the corner of my bed. “I hope you’re right, Gabby. And in all the time I’ve known you, you have always had your head screwed on right. I have no idea how—I’ve met your family. But if you trust him, Gabby, then I do, too.”

I offer Melissa a warm smile. “Thanks, Mel.” Catching my reflection in the mirror, I let out a pitiful moan. “I don’t suppose you could help find me something to wear tonight?”

Laughing, Melissa asks, “Well where are you going?”

“You see, that’s the problem. He didn’t tell me anything, he just sent me a text telling me to wear something ‘comfortable’ and to be in the lobby at nine. What does that even mean?”

Rifling through the pile of clothes on my bed, Melissa grabs a pair of black pants and throws them at me. “It means, these pants with this top,” she says, as she throws a muted floral blouse at me. “Oh, and wear those Payless wedges you’re always bragging that you bought for five dollars.”

I stick out my tongue at her barb but change into her outfit choice. Impressed, I look at my reflection, finally somewhat confident that I don’t look totally hideous.

“Can you toss me my grey blazer, Mel?”

“Seriously, Gabby? You want to wear a blazer on your date? That top is gorgeous and the open lace back shows off your tan.”

I turn in the mirror and look back at her, incredulously. “You can see my bra.”

Melissa winks in response. “That’s the best part.” Looking down at her watch, she gives me a wide smile. “It’s show time, babe.” She stands up from the bed and walks over to me, pushing her fingers through my hair. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Mel.”

I grab my bag, and Melissa and I make our way to the elevator together.

Once inside, Melissa turns to face me. “If you need anything—seriously, anything—you call me. Whatever time. I’ll be there.”

Smiling appreciatively, I nod in thanks. As the elevator doors close, Melissa shouts out, “And if he hurts you, I’ll cut off his balls!”

I swing around to glare at her, but the doors close quickly and all I can hear is her laughter as I descend to the lobby.

I take a deep, shaky breath as I step out of the elevator. Though I don’t find Jordan right away, he’s easy to spot by the large, hulking bodyguard standing a few feet away.

As I walk toward him, he stands. He’s wearing dark denim jeans, a white T-shirt, and a baseball cap slung low over his forehead, plus his signature, dark-tinted aviator sunglasses.

“Wow, Gabby. You look amazing,” he says as I reach him, an appreciative smile on his face.

“And you look… surprisingly average,” I say as I nod approvingly.

“And now that I know you well enough, Gabby Monroe, I am going to take that as a compliment.”

Holding out his arm, I slide my hand through and let him guide me to the car waiting outside. Hopping in the back, Jordan slides in next to me as his bodyguard takes the passenger seat.

“Okay, so now can you tell me where we’re going?” I ask.

A wide grin spreads across his face and I catch a slight twinkle of excitement in his baby-blue eyes. “Just a normal date,” he responds cryptically.

I roll my eyes and decide that I’ll discover soon enough what a “normal date” for Jordan James is.

We spend the next fifteen minutes chatting about the tour, the conversation and the banter flowing more easily as I feel my nerves begin to settle.

The car pulls off in front of a large cinema and stops. I look at Jordan, out the window, and back at Jordan.

“We’re going to see a movie?”

Jordan nods and moves to open the door. Before he can, I grab his arm. “Jordan, we don’t have to do this. You’ll get mobbed. It’s not worth it.”

“Do you trust me, Gabby?”

Do I trust him? Why is that such a difficult question for me to answer? Because you don’t trust anyone, I remind myself. But that’s changing. Today. With Jordan. I offer him a smile and nod my head “yes.”

He grabs my hand and pushes open the car door. “Then follow me.”

We walk into the theatre, my hand still in his. I look around the lobby, surprised to see only staff around on a Thursday evening. Confused, I lean in and whisper to Jordan, “Where is everyone?”

Laughing he answers, “It’s just us, babe.”

I pull away, spinning around to confirm his answer. Sure enough, besides us and the six or seven staff standing around, the theatre is completely empty.

Taking my hand back, Jordan pulls me to face him. “I will never be able to just spontaneously go and watch a movie, Gabby. I can’t walk around the mall with you or pop into the grocery store for some milk and eggs. And I know that’s what you want. But, if you let me, I can show you what I can offer. It might not be your idea of normal, but it’s the best I can do.”

I look around again and then back at Jordan. He’s watching me intently, and I swear I see a moment of vulnerability in his eyes. Expelling a breath, I nod. “Well, it’s not Paris, so I guess it will do.”

A grin springs to his face as he pulls me to the display of all the movies. “Any movie. Your pick. My only condition is that it must be cheesy as hell.”