I WAS NERVOUS—really nervous.
Sam and I had known each other for nearly seven weeks. Our friendship had evolved during that time, but it had always been easy and, for the most part, full of laughter and tons of smiles. Tonight, however, was different. Tonight was the first time I’d see him since we’d kissed, and there was a swarm of butterflies flying rampant through my veins, making my entire body feel as though it was floating a few feet off the ground.
Eight years.
That’s how long it had been since I’d been on a first date. I wasn’t even sure I knew how to “first date” anymore. Was it like riding a bike? Once you learned to find your balance, you never forgot? I wasn’t certain, but what I did know was that I’d had all week to prepare for this evening, and yet, there I was, palms sweaty, stomach in knots, and wrapped up in my towel because I had not the slightest idea what to wear.
In terms of dressing up, I hadn’t had to make an effort in the last seventeen months. Yoga pants and T-shirts made up most of my wardrobe, but tonight, I wanted to feel beautiful.
Tightening the knot on my towel and walking away from the mirror, I yanked open the top drawer of my dresser and fished through my undergarments: cotton, polyester, white, black.
A defeated sigh floated from my chest.
Everything was boring and plain. A far cry from confident and sexy. Granted, I had absolutely no expectations as to how this night would end, especially seeing as I wasn’t sure I’d allow myself to reach that place, but boosting my confidence with a—
Wait a minute.
Slamming the drawer shut with my hip, I hurried to the end of my bed and dropped to my knees, lifting the lid to the ottoman in front of me. Tucked inside were the delicate scraps of black lace I’d shoved in there a week ago, and as I pulled them out, I shook my head and grinned.
Fucking Jenny.
I made a mental note to thank her later and slipped into the bra and panties, which clearly served no other purpose than to be ripped off and flung across a room. Curling my hair into loose ribbons, I pinned a few strands to the back of my head and put on my makeup, applying only the essentials. Once I’d decided on an outfit among the several I’d chosen and laid out on my bed, I finished getting dressed and made my way into the living room to wait for Sam with ten minutes to spare. Five minutes passed, give or take, before my doorbell chimed. The sound of it echoed in the house, and the swarm of butterflies in my stomach reawakened from their momentary dormant state.
Straightening myself from my position on the couch, I smoothed my hands over my jean skirt. My black-heeled boots clicked against the hardwood floor, and I stopped in front of the door, inhaling a quick breath as I pulled it open.
Dressed in a pair of faded, denim-washed jeans, a dark red Henley, and his usual black leather jacket, Sam stood with a beautiful bouquet of white lilies clutched in his right hand.
“Wow.” The single syllable word floated out of his mouth on a low gasp, and as his gaze caressed me from head to toe, my cheeks flushed with heat.
“What?”
“You look …” Dark brows lifted as he shook his head, seemingly at a loss for words. “You look beautiful.”
I glanced at my clothing—a navy-blue, V-neck sweater with matching fleece tights and a jean skirt—and frowned. “In these old things? Thank you, I'm flattered, really, but they're plain and ordinary. Nothing special.”
Sam stepped forward. His free hand slid around my hip and to the small of my back, drawing me closer. “Maybe, but the woman wearing them is far from ordinary.” Soft lips brushed against my skin, placing a feather-light kiss to my forehead, and my toes curled in my boots. “And the truth of the matter is, Cass, it's the first time I actually get to verbalize that thought and not feel guilty about it—not feel like I’m doing something wrong by admitting it.”
It was then I realized how difficult of a position I had put him in. I’d always felt the connection between us. Every time I looked into his eyes or our bodies made physical contact—even in the most innocent and subtle of ways—it was there. It was there now as I stared at him in awe, my heart pitter-pattering away in my chest. “Sam—”
“Here.” He cut me off, finally passing me the bouquet of lilies. “These are for you.”
A warm-hearted smile curled my lips, and I took the flowers from his hands, bringing them to my nose and closing my eyes as I inhaled their fragrance. “I’m going to put these in a vase of water really quick, and then we can go.”
“Take your time. Our dinner reservation isn’t for another forty minutes.”
“WHERE ARE WE going now?”
Sam grinned as we stepped out of the entrance to the restaurant, a fancy upscale number in the heart of the city, and began to stroll down the sidewalk, arm in arm. “If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?”
“A surprise?” I looked over at him through squinted eyes and smirked. “Was taking me to Le Petit Château not surprise enough?” The restaurant was lovely, as was our dinner, which we spent exchanging smiles and guesses about what the other people around us were talking about, a game Sam enjoyed playing and one that earned him several laughs from me. He wasn’t lying when he said he watched and observed people, and I was amazed at how well he seemed to be able to read them.
“Maybe, but honestly, I know the owner, and he kind of owed me a favor. Don’t come to expect such lavish outings. I’m usually a cheap bastard.”
I stared at him for a moment, looking in his eyes and trying really hard to see if there was a spark of humor dancing in their brown and green depths. Although we'd only known each other for a relatively short time, I could usually decipher the difference between “playful Sam” and “serious Sam,” but tonight, this all felt so new. Our relationship was like a shiny present, and I was determined to rip through its outer packaging to discover the gift hidden inside.
“Really?”
Shaking his head at the same time a laugh slipped from his mouth, he leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to my temple. “No. I’m kidding. I do know the owner though, and he may have made an exception for me and opened up a reservation tonight.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I would have been good with cheap.”
“I know.” He gifted me one of his adorable lopsided grins. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”
My heart flipped at his words, and my whole body tensed. I tried hard to play it off as if he hadn’t thrown me completely off balance, as if my world hadn’t come to a sudden halt.
Love.
Hearing him say the word, in any context, terrified me. Could I love Sam?
Ridding myself of the thought, I looked away and glanced at the quaint shops lining the cobblestone sidewalks. Now that we were well into November, the large glass window fronts were decorated with Christmas lights and garlands, brightening the town in holiday cheer. Couples walked with their arms entwined, sipping on hot chocolate and taking in the festive sights. It was something Adam and I used to do every year, and as the memories washed over me, they brought with them an unexpected wave of sadness. I didn’t want to think of him when I was out with Sam, but when you loved someone as much as I loved Adam, it was hard to carry on as if they were never a part of your life.
“Are you okay?”
Sam’s concerned voice tore me out of my moment, and I forced a smile onto my face for his benefit. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m just—”
“Thinking of him?”
I rubbed my lips together and blew out a small sigh, guilt filling my veins at the apprehension lacing Sam’s tone. He had been nothing but caring and understanding, and he’d asked me out on this date after I’d agreed I was willing to take a step forward with him. Why he had asked me at all was a mystery. Sam was smart and funny and attractive. He could probably date any woman he wanted, so why he was interested in someone with a whole heaping load of baggage trailing behind her, I wasn’t sure.
He deserved better.
“I’m sorry.”
Stopping us, Sam turned me toward him. His hands clasped my face so I couldn’t look anywhere but at him. “Don’t be. You don’t have anything to be sorry for, do you understand?” His thumbs smoothed over my cheeks, the pads of them a rough contrast against my sensitive skin, and I nodded, my eyes stinging against the frigid air.
“It’s just … this night is supposed to be about us. And I meant what I said to you. I want to take a step forward.” I swayed a finger in the small space between us. “I want this. I want there to be a you and me, Sam, and I—”
He leaned in, cutting me off by the force of his lips as they crushed against mine, and I instantly yielded to his kiss. The warmth of his mouth and the tingle brought on by the gentle caress of his tongue, shot down the front of my chest and pooled at the very lowest part of my stomach. Our dance of tongues lasted only a few seconds before he broke our connection, leaving me hot and flush all over and my lungs completely breathless.
His hand traveled the length of my arm, fingers skimming across my palm before lacing together with mine. “One step at a time, okay?”
And just like that, he made it all better. He made every insecurity disappear. “Okay.”
We continued quietly down the sidewalk, an unusual peacefulness surrounding us despite the cars whooshing by on the street and the bustle of people navigating the town on foot—or maybe it wasn’t unusual. Spending time with Sam felt natural. Our conversations flowed with no real direction, and those were the best conversations of all.
As we came to a stop at the ice rink in the center of the square, my eyes widened. I looked at the people dancing around on the frozen sheet of glass, smiles on their faces and the cool air nipping at their noses, and glanced at Sam. “We’re going ice skating?”
The man who had sported nothing but confidence all evening suddenly looked unsure. “Is that okay? We don’t have to if you don’t—”
“What? No. Are you kidding?” Stepping into his space and gripping the cold leather of his jacket, I used it as leverage and pushed up on my toes, planting a kiss on his stubbled cheek, loving the way it prickled against my lips. “I love ice skating. My parents used to take Jenny and me all the time when we were younger. We would come every year but stopped once we got older. Jenny got married and started having babies, and I met Adam.”
Sam watched me intently as I talked, and the way he seemed to genuinely care about everything I said made me want to confide in him all my secrets—my aspirations, my fears—the mistakes that haunted me and the guilt that riddled me.
“Getting older and falling in love doesn’t mean you need to stop doing something you love.”
“No. You’re right. It doesn’t, but sometimes giving up the things we love for the people we love is our only option.” I licked my lips and smiled sadly. “Adam had a knee replacement from a track injury in college, and because the chance of falling was too much of a risk, we never came. I haven’t actually been ice skating in years.”
“Well, then.” Sam nodded in understanding. “Let’s go. Let’s see what those legs are capable of.”
Taking my hand, he dragged me behind him, heading in the direction of the skate rentals, and as he grabbed out his wallet to pay the cashier, he flashed me another knee-weakening smile. I waited patiently, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning with the amount of excitement and anticipation buzzing through me. I was anxious to get on the rink and tear up the ice. Sam returned to my side a few seconds later, handing me my skates as he sat down on the bench to put on his. Once finished, he stood in front of me, his balance completely unsteady. He held his arms out on either side of himself, as if it would prevent him from landing on his ass.
Something about seeing this full-grown man standing before me with the fear of falling in his eyes made me grin like a fool. I wanted to reach out and take hold of his hand. I wanted to guide him to me and whisper against his lips that it was okay— it was okay to be afraid to fall because I was, too.
Lacing up my skates, I double tied the strings and rose to my feet, tilting my head back to look up at my date. “Ready?”
With a nervous gleam in his bright hazel eyes, he took my hand and entwined our fingers. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I smiled and pulled him along, my feet instantly remembering the movements needed to navigate the ice. Sam’s grip tightened as we stepped onto the rink, and I swirled around, skating backward so I could catch the expression on his face.
Horrified.
He was absolutely horrified.
And if I had to place my bets, I’d say he was regretting this decision altogether.
“You okay?”
He glanced around, his brows narrowed in a frown as he watched people zinging past us as if they were completely weightless, feathers freefalling in the wind. “Do people actually like this?”
“What? This was your idea, you loon!” My grin widened, and a chuckle erupted. “Yes. People actually like this. It’s not so bad once you get out here and get going. I promise.”
The look on his face told me he wasn’t convinced. “My bones beg to differ.”
“What are you so afraid of, Sam?”
He shrugged, his voice turning deadly serious. “The same thing you are.”
“Falling?”
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to, the answer was written in his eyes.
Skating toward him, I wrapped my arms around his waist, steadying us both as he almost lost his balance for a second time. I rested my chin on his chest and lifted my lashes, staring up at him. He was so devastatingly handsome, and the way the bright lights flashed down on the rink only enhanced his features.
“We’ll just have to catch each other then, now won’t we?”
Sam pulled me closer, and everything that didn’t matter faded out. Leaning in, he brushed his nose along mine. Our misty breaths mingled, and my heart thudded loudly beneath my ribs.
“Pretty sure you’ve already caught me, Cass.”