Page 12 of His Alone

My palms were sweating pretty much the entire date. It was a good thing he opted to go for dinner instead of a movie or something. At least I was able to keep a napkin in my lap.

We both ate light meals and topped it off with dessert, but we stayed in the restaurant talking long after we finished eating. It dawned on me after half an hour that he could tell how nervous I was and he was trying to delay ending the date so I’d have a chance to pull it together.

Which wasn’t going to happen. Admittedly, I was a bit of a wreck.

We knew it was time to go when the crowd in the restaurant started to thin. The cold air on the walk to his car made it easier to breathe. I lingered at the passenger door, sucking in deeps gulps of air while he stood beside me with a quizzical look.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no. It’s me, I… I’m just nervous.”

“Still? I thought talking as much as we have would’ve helped more.”

Oh. He thought I was nervous about the date. I shook my head, knowing I’d have no better chance to admit to what was really on my mind. Even if it made the ride home awkward, I wanted to be able to look at him while I laid my cards on the table.

It was terrifying, but I met his eyes and asked, “What happens next?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m… ready. If you are,” I quickly added, laughing humorlessly at the shocked look on his face. “It’s just—we’ve talked so much lately and I really like you and I’m pretty sure that I want to—”

“Wait, wait. Pretty sure?”

I let out a harsh breath and shook my head again.

“Completely sure. I’m just a little freaked, you know? It’s a big step.”

I didn’t even realize I was staring down at my shoes until I felt James hook a finger under my chin and tilt my head back. His eyes searched mine, a frown pulling his brows down harshly.

“I’m sure,” I whispered, smiling when the expression on his face softened. “I want you.”

His eyes closed and he groaned low in his throat. The sound was music to my ears and I smiled.

“Your place or mine?”

“Yours,” I answered quickly. “My roommate is… annoying, at best. Definitely your place.”

There it was again—that pensive look he had when we ate together in the diner after the company party. I knew something was amiss, but his lips touching mine cut off the question before I could voice it.

“My place it is.”

It was finally going to happen. Even though I was afraid, I felt more at peace with my decision than I could ever recall feeling before. This thing between us was meant to be. I was sure of it.

And though I wouldn’t dare say it aloud yet, I was pretty certain that it was… love.

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