Page 109 of I Just Want to be Yours

Braden’s eyes dart around the restaurant. “Don’t tell her I said that. I wouldn’t put it past her to throw a shoe at me.”

“Your secret’s safe,” I say, still giggling.

My smile lingers, and I realize I’m actually having fun. Rae’s plan is working. I feel better than I have all day. I’m sure just getting out of the apartment is a huge part of that, but I think Braden is a part of it, too. There’s something about his presence that’s comforting and the fact that he knows where I stand on tonight makes it easier to accept that comfort.

For the rest of dinner, we laugh and talk. He tells me about his job as a barback and his dreams of one day owning a restaurant. Our food arrives, and I have to admit that Dee’s pesto pasta is better than Braden’s, but only by a small margin. Little by little, I feel my rigid, icy state softening. I start to relax and feel more like myself. Braden gives off this warm feeling that I wish I could harness and wrap around myself like a cozy blanket. I’d save it for later when I’m alone and plagued with the thoughts that turned me to ice in the first place.

We thank Dee for our meals—which we each pay for separately. He didn’t even try to pay, and I’m grateful for it.Without looking my way, he told her we’d needed two checks, and that may have eased any lingering fears I had.

As we walk out into the cool night air, Braden waves for me to follow him. Instead of walking in the direction of the car, he turns down a busy side street full of vendors. It’s like an evening farmer’s market I never knew existed. As we walk and carry on our conversation from dinner, I marvel over all the different tables. There’s fresh honey, handcrafted jewelry, paintings, woodwork, and soaps. The energy of the market is buzzing with happy shoppers. Some look around at the market like they’ve stumbled upon a pleasant surprise while others look like they frequent certain tables to gather their essentials.

Without thinking, I stop in front of a cart full of bouquets. The flowers range in all varying shapes and colors, and for a moment, I find myself completely transfixed. They’re stunning.

“Want one?” Braden asks, stepping up beside me.

I’m instantly brought back to the present. “No. Sorry, I was just looking.” My eyes fall back to the silk-like petals, and I take one more intoxicating inhale. “Okay, I’m done,” I say with a laugh as I step away.

Braden doesn’t follow me, though. He takes another step toward the cart and starts muttering to himself.

I get closer and try to hear what he’s saying. “What are you doing?”

He looks over at me, surprised. “Oh. I’m trying to figure out which of these is the least romantic flower. What do you think?” He pulls a bouquet from the cart. “Daisies?”

“I think dead flowers are the least romantic.”

He glances back at the cart with a chuckle. “Looks like they’re fresh out of dead.” He shows the woman working the cart the bouquet of yellow and orange daisies before handing her his card. Once he’s paid, he turns back to me with a satisfied grin.

I arch a brow at him. “Do you even know how much those cost?”

“Nope. How much could it be?”

I shake my head. “Flowers can be expensive.”

He shrugs. “Well, they’re a gift for a friend, so they’re worth it.” He hands me the bouquet, and I hold them dumbly in my hands.

I have no idea what to say or do. Eventually a confused, “Thank you?” falls from my lips, and he smiles, even more pleased.

For the rest of the night, I hold my flowers. And for the rest of the night, there are no other date-like gestures. But as Braden drives us back to the apartment, my heart rate rises a little. It’s after ten, and Jackson’s flight was supposed to arrive hours ago. I wonder if he lost his money when he canceled or if they gave him a voucher. Hopefully, he could just change it to fly into Orlando instead. Then he’d be closer to Matt’s parents’ house.

I wring my hands in my lap as we pull into the parking lot, but I don’t see his car. Of course, I don’t see his car. He wouldn’t have come here. I don’t know why I’m panicking. It’s not like I’m going to open my apartment door and see him sitting there.

Braden puts the car in park, and we both step out. My hands shake as I take each step up to the second floor, but I hope holding the flowers hides it well. There’s no sign of Jackson up here either, and it helps to steady my nerves. We stop in front of Braden’s apartment since it’s the first one we pass.

“Thanks again for tonight,” I say with my best smile. “And for the flowers,” I add, lifting the bouquet.”

“Anytime.” He nods toward the flowers. “Sorry. They do still look a little date-like. I won’t tell if you won’t.”

I let out a weak laugh. “My lips are sealed.”

As soon as I say the words, Braden’s eyes drop to my mouth. And for the first time tonight, this doesn’t feel like two friends getting dinner. Because friends don’t look at other friends’ mouths like that.

“Braden,” I say, and my voice comes out a quiet plea.

He blinks. “Right. Sorry. Friends.”

I give him a sad smile. Taking a step back, I say, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he says, but when I reach my own door he adds, “Hey, Margot?”

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