Page 18 of Patiently Yours
“This is not a date.”I cross my arms and watch as Rory looks through my closet. I have told her up to fifteen times that this isnota date, but she refuses to placate my denial in the matter.
“Even if it’s not, don’t you want to look cute?” she says with a mischievous smile. She picks up a sweater dress and looks at it sideways like it’ll somehow make the dress look sexier. She puts the dress back before pulling out a wool skirt instead.
“I guess.” I try to shrug casually, but my insides are screaming affirmatives. Ciro is very cute and he’s the only beta I’ve ever smelled besides my parents. It’s appealing in a confusing—but also exciting—way.
Okay, I may be hoping this is a date, but that doesn’t mean itisone.
“Look, all I’m saying is that it’s probably best to just rip the bandaid off and call this a date.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea though. I mean, it hasn’t been that long since the break up…” I trail off. Not to mention how the last few weeks have gone. Rory suggested that I get all theroutine tests done now that we know Derek was cheating on me. Luckily, everything came back negative. It should feel normal, but a part of me still feels shame from the entire ordeal. For months, I knew things weren’t okay and yet I still trusted him with that part of myself.
Looking back, I feel ridiculous and naive. I’m not sure I’m ready to trust someone again, and that includes myself.
“Sure, it hasn’t been that long since thou-who-shall-not-be-named, but it’s actually been a really long time since you’ve been happy and excited about dating. So, this is coming right on time.” She puts the skirt beside me on the bed before marching back to find a matching shirt. “And, his packmate punched you-know-who in the face and broke his nose. That’s all I need for my stamp of approval. They’re perfect for you.”
“No, notthey,” I reprimand her. “Just Ciro. He’s the one that asked me. His pack won’t even be there. Besides, I don’t want a pack.” Even as I say it, my words lack conviction.
Rory looks at me likeyeah rightbut doesn’t push the issue. She sets a few shirt options down for me and I slide my hand over the soft cotton and ponder.
“Even if you’re not calling it a date, he certainly is. Why would he go out of his way to get things you like if it weren’t a date?” she points out, taking me back to Ciro’s texts from earlier. He had asked about my favorite snacks and drinks, and when I only sent cookies as my response, he didn’t accept it and made me send a list instead. He told me the more options the better, and that’s how our entire weekly grocery list ended up in our text chain.
“Just because he asked for a list doesn’t mean he’ll have every option. He probably just wanted to get something we could both enjoy.”
Rory scoffs. “Fine. But a guy you’renot datingwouldn’t give you an adoringly cute nickname.”
Yes, he may have started calling me a particular name over text. When I asked him why he picked that name of all things, he said ‘because you have the prettiest doe eyes I’ve ever seen.’
I cough slightly, trying to hide my blush. “Looks like we’ll see when I get there,” I say, but it does little to calm my nerves. I wonder if I can sneak in a quick smoke break before I go, but my phone screen says I’ll be late if I don’t leave soon so I scratch that idea and decide to get dressed.
“Thank you for helping me, Cranny.”
She scrunches her nose at my favorite nickname for her. It’s not the most creative, but I love her cranberry scent so it’s a keeper.
“Of course,Vanilla Bean.” She cringes and shakes her head. “Nope, it doesn’t work. Anyway, I love you. Please share your location with me just in case.”
I pull up our text messages and quickly turn on my location. She smiles at me. “Have fun, Stacia. You deserve it.”
ELEVEN
Playing: Silence by Marshmello (ft. Khalid)
This house is a suburban dream.It’s nicely sized with worn down brick. It doesn’t look polished like the houses in our neighborhood, which calls to my omega in a way I didn’t expect. There’s fallen leaves still scattered amongst the lawn, a partial crack in the side of the porch, peelings of paint falling off the door. All the little imperfections scream that this place is ahome. And the finishing touch is the snowflake decoration that’s hanging on their door. It’s twinkling at me as I stand there, frozen in my step with my knuckles raised.
Now that I’m here, I feel something stirring. It’s like impending doom but lighter. It feels like excitement and anxiety are trying to befriend each other in my stomach.
Just as I’m about to knock, the door suddenly opens and the very handsome beta I’m here to see appears on the other side. He beams at me and I take a moment to take in his appearance. His style is a beautiful mix of prep and punk. He’s got on a deep purple sweater vest with nothing underneath so I can see his beautiful tattoos cascading down both arms. He’s wearing thesame earrings from the night we met, little silver lightning bolts that sway with the movement of his head. His trousers stop right above his ankle and are tight around his thighs.
My cheeks flush involuntarily as I shake my head and raise my eyes to his face. His expression doesn’t give away whether or not he caught me checking him out, but his rum scent smoothens just the tiniest bit.
“Hi, doe. Are you ready to watch some hockey without freezing to death?” he asks teasingly before holding the door open for me.
“You have no idea.” I smile before stepping inside. He follows behind me as we walk further into the house. “Maybe I’ll actually enjoy the sport this time instead of wishing for it to be?—”
I halt abruptly in the doorway of the living room. The light is dimmed and the room is quite spacious. There’s one large sectional, with a matching loveseat and recliner. The mahogany coffee table is covered in snacks and there’s warmth coming from the fireplace.
Therealfireplace.
But that’s not the reason I stopped in my tracks.
