Page 33 of The Rookie's Sister

“Thank you again for coming,” Emma toys with the ties on her sweater, suddenly shy. “I’m really glad you and Dad hit it off. And Jeff, of course.”

“Me too. Your family’s great.” I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal just yet. But the wine and the honesty of the evening loosen my tongue. “Honestly, Em, tonight makes me see this could be something real between us. Not just pretend anymore.”

Emma’s eyes widen behind her glasses, lips curving. “Yeah?”

I nod, heart thudding against my ribs. “Yeah.”

Her fingers brush mine, feather-light. “As delicious as it sounds, we just…can’t.”

As the silence stretches between us, filled only by the distant sounds of the night, I take a deep breath, emboldened by the evening’s emotional transparency.

“I understand. Can I at least take you out tomorrow night?” I ask, my voice tinged with disappointment. “Can you give me a chance to show you a good time, just the two of us? No family, no ex, no distractions. Just... Emma and Xavier.”

Her eyes meet mine, and I sense a flicker of excitement that quickly morphs into something softer, something like hope.

“I think I owe you that much,” Emma says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’d love to.”

The tension that has been building all evening seems to break, replaced by a sense of anticipation, a promise of what’s to come. We share a lingering look, full of unspoken possibilities, before I finally turn to go.

As I step off the porch and into the night, I can’t help but feel a sense of completeness. I walk away with her warmth still lingering on my skin and the promise of tomorrow adding a buoyant step to my walk.

Something very real is blooming between us, and for the first time in a long time, I’m genuinely excited about what the future holds.

FIFTEEN

EMMA

The scent of jasmine wafts across the steam-filled bathroom as I step from the shower. I wrap myself in a plush towel, watching tiny drops of water race down the fogged mirror. Tonight is my first date with Xavier with no distractions. Tonight, there’s no need for pretending, and maybe no self-imposed restrictions. The thought sends a thrill racing across my skin, more powerful than the heady florals infusing the air.

In the bedroom, I contemplate the dress options fanned across my comforter. I settle on a simple black number with a lace overlay that skims my knees flirtatiously. The square neckline and fitted bodice are understated but alluring. I turn in front of the full-length mirror, watching the fabric shift subtly over my body. Satisfied, I move to the vanity and arrange my hair in loose curls that tumble becomingly over one shoulder. A touch of mascara and lipstick in a deep berry shade complete the look.

The doorbell chimes as I’m fastening delicate silver earrings. Taking a steadying breath, I grab my purse and move to let Xavier in.

He stands casually on the entrance, suit jacket slung over one shoulder. The top buttons of his dress shirt are undone, exposing a tempting glimpse of smooth chest I long to explore further. His eyes widen almost imperceptibly as he takes in my appearance.

“You look absolutely stunning.”

I bask in the warmth of his admiring gaze. “Back at you. I’m liking this slightly undone formal look on you.” Unable to resist, I reach out and trail a single fingertip along his exposed collarbone.

Xavier sucks in a sharp breath, eyes flashing. “Careful, or we won’t make it out of your doorway tonight.”

Laughing softly, I grab his outstretched hand. “Come on, Casanova. I believe you promised me dinner.”

The drive to the restaurant takes us along the lakeshore, windows down and the tang of brine perfuming the air. We chat lightly about nothing consequential—sports, movies, our shared obsession with true crime podcasts. But an undercurrent thrums between us, a new awareness heightened by tentative touches and stolen glances. Each brush of Xavier’s hand under mine on the gearshift sends sparks skittering across my skin.

We pull up outside an elegant brick building nestled inconspicuously between a vacant storefront and a New Age shop advertising aura readings. Two small lanterns flank a nondescript wooden door.

I raise a questioning eyebrow at Xavier. “Not exactly the five-star establishment I pictured.”

“Oh ye of little faith.” Xavier grins and opens my door with a gallant flourish. “Trust me, the lack of crowds and paparazzi will be a welcome change.”

Inside, a winding staircase leads down into a cozy space lit by flickering sconces along exposed brick walls. A jazz quintet plays softly in one corner while couples and small groups lounge at intimate tables. The atmosphere is at once lively and relaxed.

Xavier gives his name to the hostess, who leads us to a secluded corner booth. “Your server will be right over,” she says with a polite smile, handing us menus.

“This place is wonderful,” I tell Xavier, sliding in across from him. “How did you find it?”

“I can’t reveal all my secrets.” Xavier winks. “Let’s just say I wanted our first real date someplace special.”

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