Page 206 of Haunt Me

“Hey.”

Eden’s voice sounds weird over the phone, but I don’t comment on it. I wait for her to tell me what’s bothering her.

“Excited for tonight?” I ask her.

“Yeah,” she says. Doesn’t offer anything more.

“Me too.”

I wait. This is ridiculous.

It’s the first week of January, and we are about to go on our first date. We didn’t get to have it in Chicago, not properly. It was a security nightmare, but I was too happy to care. Now, however, I am impatient.

I need to get to New York asap.

Currently, I am in Vienna with Mom and James. We rang in the new year here, the three of us, and we’ve been spending a few days together since. Mom’s hands are getting worse.

She is in so much pain that she has started taking rather serious medication, which knocks her out for hours at times. And she is still in pain. She has been performing in pain for years now, but finally it’s getting so bad that she might have only a few months left before she has to stop playing the cello completely.

A few months, tops.

To me, it looks like she should have stopped already, but it’s up to her, so I keep my mouth shut.

“Eden, you know I could spend all day talking to you like this, but I have this feeling that you… Is there something you want to ask me?”

“I don’t know what to wear,” Eden says and I bite my lip. She is so adorable. She is in New York taking a writing masterclass before Harvard starts again. I don’t think I’ve ever admired a person more.

The date can’t wait anymore. I start touring again soon, and she starts classes, so New York it will have to be. If I can catch my plane in exactly thirty minutes, according to my pilot.

“You always look so cool,” I tell her, and I wonder if she knows how deeply I mean it. “So beautiful. Always have. I don’t think you even own anything that’s not amazing on you.”

She laughs awkwardly. “My Tigger PJs,” she says.

“They are incredibly cute,” I say.

“They are not.”

“If you knew the battles I had to fight in my mind after seeing you in them, just to stop myself from ripping—”

“Ok, ok,” she laughs. “Let’s steer away from the Hundred Acre Wood with that kind of conversation.” I can just see her cheeks turning pink on the screen of my phone, and, in response, my breath begins to come short and heavy. I need to calm myself down. I won’t ruin this for her. For us.

“I am too embarrassed to ask anyone else,” Eden says. “Seriously, can’t you give me any clues as to where we’re going?”

“Nope. It’s a surprise.”

“Well, then, what do people wear on first dates?”

“We,” I say firmly, “arenottwo people on a first date.”

…

Twelve hours later, I’m sitting at the table I have booked for us.

I stand when I see Eden enter. I watch her progress through the room, my eyes following every step, every small movement, magnetized. Then she takes off her coat and I gasp.

She’s wearing a green satin dress with straps. The sleek material hugs her body perfectly, accentuating every delicate curve. Her slight waist, the swell of her breasts. Her—best not go there. Her hair is flowing in loose curls down her back, complimenting the dress’ color, and she keeps her head high as she looks around, searching for my face. I instinctively know that she is fighting the urge to run and hide. To curl into herself; to make herself invisible. But she doesn’t. She holds her ground and stands tall.

The minute her eyes meet mine, she is transformed.

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