Page 47 of Lovesick

EMILIA

I pressed my lips into a tight line, and before the walls around me closed in on me, I said, “Yes.”

Dean’s eyebrows lifted in pure, unfiltered shock. Like he had braced himself for the worst and hadn’t dared to hope for anything else. “Yeah?” he asked, voice a little breathless.

I nodded, folding my arms across my chest, just to keep my hands from shaking. “Yeah.”

He exhaled a laugh, the kind of laugh people let out when the weight they’ve been carrying finally falls away. Then he took a step closer but stopped himself. “I won’t read too much into it,” he said, holding his hands up, surrendering to the fragile terms of our truce. “It’s just dinner. That’s all. Just…dinner.”

“Right. Just dinner,” I repeated, as if saying it out loud would make it more real.

But we both knew it wasn’t just that.

There was tension between us again. It wasn’t the icy, distant tension that had kept us apart for weeks. It was charged, electric.

“I’ll forward you the reservation details,” Dean said, his tone casual, but filled with so much hope and maybe a bit of excitement. “It’s this Saturday at eight. You’ll need to wear something formal. I mean, you always look great, but…” He trailed off, then shook his head at himself. “Never mind.”

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth despite everything. “Okay.”

Dean looked at me for another long moment, like he didn’t quite believe I’d said yes. Like he was afraid I might change my mind. But I didn’t.

I wouldn’t.

Because, deep down, I’ve wanted for something like this to happen.

***

Saturday came quickly, and I had planned my outfit the same evening he had asked me to that dinner. I chose a dark green satin dress with a slit on the side that didn’t reveal too much leg. I kept my makeup simple, and the perfume I chose was subtle, warm, and a little nostalgic. Something I hadn’t worn in weeks but knew Dean would recognize because he once complimented the scent.

He arrived right on time, knocking at my door softly but determined. I gave it a few seconds before opening the door. He blinked at me, clearly stunned. He looked incredible too in his black suit, a crisp black shirt underneath, no tie. He had shaved his beard, only leaving behind the hint of scruff to look effortlessly put-together.

And in his hand, he held a bouquet of peonies.

My breath caught. Pale pink, white, and soft coral. The prettiest colors. They were still dewy from the florist’s cooler, wrapped in brown paper with a cream ribbon. He remembered…

“You look…” he started, then let out a breath. “I don’t even have the right word.”

“Good,” I offered, lifting one eyebrow. “Decent?”

He smiled, that familiar half-smirk tugging at his mouth. “Devastatingly beautiful.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide my smile. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad either.”

“It’s what I usually wear to work,” he said, looking down at himself with his lips pursed. “Minus the tie.”

“Shame. But hot.”

His gaze lifted, and his brow arched in amusement. “You like when I wear ties?”

I shrugged, taking in his suit and the top of his shirt which was unbuttoned. “You look handsome in a suit and tie.” It hadn’t been my intention to be so forward. Sure, I had said yes to this dinner for a reason. Because, deep down, I could tell he was trying to change. Maybe not for me directly, but he wasn’t the man he once used to be.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, handing me the bouquet. His fingers brushed mine, and I held the flowers a little closer than I needed to.

“Peonies,” I said softly. “You remembered.”

He looked at me like this moment meant so much more to him. “Of course I did.”

“They’re beautiful. Thank you, Dean.”

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