Page 19 of Siren's Heart

"Yeah,” I agree and nod eagerly. “Let's go."

Whether this is a sign from the universe, or our meddling friends, I'm taking the chance.

Luca

I can't believe Asher.

When he told me about the double date yesterday, I was over the damned moon. The whole night, I kept thinking about it, tossing and turning, imagining Millie’s beautiful smile and how it would feel to have it directed at me. I only fell asleep when the first rays of sunshine already peeked through my curtains, and Rich called me out more than once today for losing my focus.

All the while, Millie had no idea this was going to be happening. Goddamnit, Asher.

But it's a chance, a foot in the door, my opportunity to get to know her. I just have to make the most of it, even if it means pretending that I also had no idea that’s what our friends were up to.

I conceal my determined sigh by clearing my throat before I step into the street and wave down a taxi. According to my now former best friend Asher, there should be one waiting for us, but since I'm not seeing it, I'm taking matters into my own hands. Millie might not have known I'd be the one joining her and Kayla on this double date, but I'll make damn sure she's happy about it.

When a taxi stops right in front of us, I open the door and let her enter first. She shoots me a small, sweet smile before climbing in, and I quickly circle the vehicle to get in on the other side.

"To Fantasia, please," I tell the driver, and he gives us a quick nod before merging back into traffic.

Silence settles in the car as we ride. I try not to stare at her, but goddamnit, it’s just impossible not to. Her pretty dress reveals her legs, riding up higher since she’s fiddling nervously with the hem, and her biting her lips doesn’t make it an easy task.

There's so much I want to ask her, so much I want to know, all her deepest secrets and biggest fears. Not while having a stranger listen in, though. Who knows what he'll do, maybe record us and send it to a magazine? Give interviews telling another magazine what we smell like?

It’s possible. I didn’t sit through five hours of Van’s media training for nothing.

Then again, staying silent is just going to be awkward.

I fidget in my seat. How much longer will it take until we’re there? To my dismay, I realize we've barely moved. Thank you, Philly rush hour traffic.

Sighing, I sink deeper into the seat, trying to get more comfortable, putting my hand flat on the middle seat between us. From the corner of my eyes, I watch her roll the pearls of her bracelet between her fingers. It's cute. Simple, but why is there only one pearl in another color?

There’s so much I want to ask her, so many things I’m dying to know. And I realize that I want every second I am with her to matter, that keeping silent just isn’t an option.

"So," I break the silence, my heart doing a little flip when she looks up and our eyes meet. "How are you liking Philly?" I cringe internally.

I mean, usually, I'd rather rip my tongue out than entertain small talk this superficial, but at least it's a safe topic to talk about. What is a tabloid going to write? 'Superstar likes Philadelphia?' ‘Superstars do small talk?’

Even if they did, that's hardly scandalous.

"It's really nice here," she says softly, a small smile playing at her lips. I know mine are curving up as well, because her voice is so bright and clear, it feels like rays of light streaming through a clear window, falling onto my skin. "Very different from other cities I've stayed at. I haven’t seen much of it yet, but I really enjoy Philly's vibe. How about you?" She tilts her head, looking like an adorable golden retriever with the sun hitting her blonde hair and big eyes.

"I'm enjoying Philly, too." My fingers find the hem of my shirt, and I twist it between my fingertips. "Where did you like staying the most?"

"Hmm," she hums, tipping her index finger against her pursed lips as she rolls the question over in her head. My eyes are transfixed on it, and before I even realize it, her lips become the star of a daydream. I bet they feel amazing against mine.

"Ah, now I know." Her eyes light up as she directs her eyes back at me, and I shake off the fantasy of kissing her. "I lived in Amsterdam for a bit; that was nice. It was so different from any cities I’ve stayed in the US. Like every city, it has its issues, but the canals and historic buildings are lovely."

I ask her more about Amsterdam, and with each answer, her smile widens and the glow on her face intensifies, until the car comes to a stop in front of the restaurant. Before she can even attempt it, and I see her reaching for her handbag, I hand the driver enough cash to cover the ride and a generous tip. He didn’t say a word, which is perfect service in my book.

"Give me a second," I ask her, willing her with only my eyes to remain seated before I jump out of the car, quickly walking over to the other side to open the door for her.

"Thank you," she murmurs, barely audible, the slightest blush tinting her cheeks.

"You're very welcome," I tell her, clearing my throat when I realize how rough my voice suddenly sounds. At once, the nervousness is back, taking the smoothness out of my movements and the confidence out of my voice. "Let's go inside."

She nods and starts to walk ahead. For a second, I can’t help but stare after her, before I hurry to catch up and stroll beside her.

God, I really want to put my hand against the small of her back. I have to actively fight the pull that is beckoning my hand closer, like a magnet, waiting to snap together. Being next to her without touching her makes a distant feeling of anxiety settle in my stomach. It has me feeling like something is missing, as though I'm walking without shoes, or wearing my t-shirt inside out.

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