Page 103 of The Opposite of Romance
Now, I just need to hit the store to get everything I need.
A few hours later,I’m parking in front of her house, more nervous than I was in ages. A part of me gave up on us, thinking there’s no chance that she would agree to date me.
I thought she was still hung up on her ex. I thought I was too young, too immature, or not classy enough for her. But now that she agreed to date me, the stakes have never been higher. Now that I finally have her in my arms, there’s no chance I’m letting her go, so this date better be the best fucking date she’s ever been on.
No pressure.
But when she opens the door and greets me with a warm smile, her gray eyes crinkled, everything inside of me relaxes.
Awkwardly, I take her into my arms and land a kiss to her plump lips, and she squeals, not expecting it. But when I let her go, her cheeks are flushed, her hair mussed, and fuck, she looks even more beautiful.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Hi,” I respond, chuckling. “Ready?”
“For what?”
“You’ll see.” I shoot her a wink.
“Am I dressed ok?”
“You’re dressed perfectly.” Her dark skirt is tight around her waist, but it flares around her hips, making her figure look mouthwatering.
I open the passenger doors, and she jumps in. She interrogates me about the location of our date the whole way there, but I don’t say a word.
I park on the lot closest to Main Street and she narrows her eyes. “Hmm. Main Street. So vague. You’re giving me zero clues.” Her mouth lowers into a pout, making me chuckle.
We get out of the car, and I take out the picnic basket from the bed of the truck.
She eyes it suspiciously. “A picnic on Main Street? Now you’re intentionally confusing me.”
This time, a deep laugh bubbles out of me. She’s so fucking cute. But I’m not sharing a thing.
After walking a few minutes, we stop in front of the bookstore. The lights are out since they close at 7 and it’s 7:15 now, just like Rebecca and I agreed. I place the picnic basket on the ground while lifting different plants in front of the entrance, looking for the key.
Sadie stares at me with a confused and slightly terrified look when I finally lift the key high in the air.
“Is this allowed?” she asks, apprehensively.
“Come on, live a little,” I respond, and her mouth parts in shock. “Kidding. The owner left the key for us.”
I unlock the door and let us inside before turning the lights on. The bookstore is a full tourist trap, with Instagram worthy decorations and reading nooks. I bring us to the back, to the most secluded nook, with two giant and comfortable reading chairs and a small coffee table.
“What are we doinghere?” Sadie asks.
“Whatever we want.” I smirk, and she rolls her eyes. “But we can shop, read, eat.” I lift the basket.
“I can get some books?” Her voice is hopeful.
“Sure, you can get as many as you’d like. We’ll leave Rebecca, the owner, a list so she can ring them up.”
Like a kid in a candy store, her eyes widen, and she heads to the nearest shelf, her gaze trailing the book titles. She quickly finds the romance section and takes out multiple books, putting them back before finding one she obviously likes. I use the time to prepare the picnic. Or the adult version of a picnic.
Instead of champagne, which would be an obvious choice, I bring out a bottle of tequila, an orange liqueur, and lime juice. I even bought two margarita glasses and some limes, for the full effect. She’s still browsing the shelves while I make margaritas and take out the food. The store clerk was another person I went to high school with, and she was kind enough to make a platter of salami and cheeses, one that looks professionally made.
I place everything on the small coffee table, proud of my work, and she gets back with a few books in her hands.
Her eyes widen again before turning glossy, but I help her in the chair, placing a margarita glass in her hands. I take my glass and clink it to hers.
