Page 25 of Sparrow

“WHAT THE HELLam I thinking, Nora? I can’t go on a date with Grayson Aldrich right now. This is crazy. I’m crazy.” I cradle the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I jump, bounce, and wiggle my ass into my blue jeans.

When Grayson asked me out, while sitting on my porch Tuesday morning, so many thoughts ran through my head, but only one answer would form on my lips. I’d love to go on a date with you.

Now the day is here, and he’s supposed to arrive in less than an hour. Cue mental breakdown.

“First of all, calm the hell down. It’s a date. Big deal,” she says so coolly.

“Exactly. It’s a date. With my ex. It’s a date, even though I’m not all the way divorced yet.” I put the phone on speaker then place it down on the vanity, so I can pull my black off-the-shoulder top over my head and onto my body.

“You’re really going to feel guilty for going on a date because your divorce from your cheating, abusive husband isn’t finalized yet? Really? Amelia, you deserve to do whatever you want. You earned the right.”

I move into the bathroom and hop to sit sideways on the counter, turning my head toward the mirror so I can do my makeup. “It makes me feel like a slut,” I admit.

“A slut? Do you plan on sleeping with him tonight?” she asks.

“No, but I feel like a slut because I think I want to.” I add a touch of glow to my face and some mascara to my lashes.

“First of all, wanting to have sex does not make you a slut, because if it did, I’d be Premiere Slut Number One. Wanting sex makes you human. You haven’t had decent sex in years, Amelia.”

She’s right.

“I haven’t had an orgasm that wasn’t at my hand in years. Jaxon stopped caring shortly after I said, ‘I do.’ It became all about him. All about the power he had over me.” I slip off the counter and attempt to tame my hair, which I’ve left in beachy waves.

“Go on this date, babe. Have fun. Get to know him again, and if it heads toward sex and you still want it, there’s no shame in doing it. None at all. You’re a grown-ass woman with a grown-ass woman’s needs. Take the dick, Amelia. Make me proud.” That is why I love her.

I laugh loudly. “You’re such a shit sometimes, you know that?”

“Yeah, but I’m the best and you adore me.”

“You know what? I do.” Before I can speak again, my doorbell sounds through the house.

“Shit, Nora. He’s here. I have to go.” I scramble to add a bit of perfume and step into my sandals.

“Take the dick, A.” She giggles. “Call me if you need anything, and let me know when you’re home safe.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too.” She ends the call and I shove my phone into my purse.

After one last look in the mirror, I make my way downstairs.

I pause by the front door briefly, taking a deep breath, and then pull it open.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Grayson is dressed in dark wash blue jeans, which hang perfectly off his waist, and a plain black tee shirt that is both casual and somehow so damn sexy on him. He’s not wearing a hat and his hair has that mussed up, bedhead thing going on. The whole package makes my body physically ache for attention.

“Wow, Mills. You look—wow!” he says with that perfect grin of his.

“So do you.”

I bite my slip and smile.

“This is for you.” He extends his hand, offering me a single peony, my favorite flower.

“You remembered. Thank you.” I take the pink flower from him and press it against my nose, inhaling its sweet scent.

“I’m glad you like it.” He leans against my doorframe, large and looming.

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