Page 35 of Until We Fall

He frowns like he read all my contrasting emotions in that one word. “D?”

“Yeah?”

He steps out onto the patio. “You okay?”

I pause, my phone still in my hand. “I’m okay.”

I am. I’m here in Clua. Withhim.

I should tell him about the lease, but it doesn’t come out. It feels too tangled up with him. With us.

Is there anus?

What if there was?

I just need to think. I will tell him, but right now there’s so much in my head. I sweep back the tendrils of hair that have fallen into my eyes. And… wait…

“Did you follow me back? You were at the beach, and…” I itch my sandy chest, and his gaze moves there, watching until after my hand falls.

His eyes ping up. “I thought, maybe…” He bites his lip nervously, his toes curling in his sandals. “I could take you out.”

I blink. “You want to take me out?”

“For dinner?” He shifts, shoving his hands in his pockets, a blush warming across his cheeks. He’s so cute.

“I don’t know what’s around here,” he continues nervously. “If it’s all spring break type stuff or if there’s a nicer place? Or even if it’s more casual, that’s fine too. But I just—” He squishes up his shoulders then shakes his head like he’s unsure what he’s doing.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” I ask.

“I…” He winces then nods sharply. “If you don’t want to, then that’s fine. I understand.”

Holy fuck, my heart spasms. My hope blossoms. My whole fucking outlook on life expands in a matter of two seconds. Not that the outlook was in any way bad before, but it’s downright rainbows and gardenias now.

“Yes,” I say, clearly and directly, so he knows without a doubt that I am absolutely into this. Jesus, I’m so into this. “I would love to. I’m ecstatic you asked me.”

Oh fuck, he reallyaskedme. The butterflies in my stomach churn with so much excitement that I’m not sure I can eat. Idon’t care if I eat. I’ll just go stare at him from across a table. That sounds amazing too.

He smiles cutely, that blush running down his neck. I just watch him. I can’t take my eyes off him.

I can’t believe he wants to go on a date withme.

Not just kissing or waking up tangled together, but adate. I’m so fucking happy.

I click out of the family chat. “Just let me get showered.”

11

Rory takesme to a restaurant with a rooftop balcony that overlooks a rugged coast. Mosaics pattern the floor and wink in the moonlight. The stars and moon glow overhead. He found the place online, made the reservation, scheduled the Uber, and pulled out my chair for me when we sat down. He’s taking me on adate.

Holy Jesus, I love it.

I’ve been out with guys before, but it’s always felt like the four Bs—two bros going for burgers and beers with the hope of blow jobs at the end. Never a date like this one.

I’m so giddy I can hardly contain myself. I take a sip of virgin Mai Tai and lean back in my chair, my eyes all over the man sitting across from me.

He’s wearing a blue, button-up shirt, short sleeves that show off wrists and forearms and the bottom half of his biceps. His gray eyes are dark as they look across the table at me, a single candle between us flicking warm light on his face. From the second we sat down, I’ve been itching to touch him, to feel him, to press my lips against the soft skin of his neck, taste underneath his ear. Sitting across from him at this table is like some kind of foreplay that I’ve never experienced before.

My phone vibrates as the server clears our plates, so I slip it out just to make sure it’s not any kind of emergency. When I told Carter earlier that Rory and I were going out to dinner, he grinned and slapped me on the back with a big, “Fuck, yeah! Have fun!”

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