“I get it. No worries. I’ll help you out.”
Her brown-green eyes study me. “Why?”
I huff out a soft laugh. “Well, one, because I’m not an asshole. And two, I think you know why.”
She glances away. “Maybe I don’t.”
I shrug. “Look, I’m thirty-three years old. I’m too old to be playing games. I like you, Maya. I’m attracted to you. I was ever since the second I saw you. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Her lashes flutter rapidly. “Um…thank you.”
“No need to thank me. I’m stating facts.” I take a step closer. “I really would love to take you out sometime. Unless—you’re seeing someone.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I’m not seeing anyone. I just—I have a hard time opening up to people.”
“I understand,” I tell her. “And, hey. I get it. In my line of work, it pays to be suspicious.” I smile. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I’d still love to take you to dinner.”
She swallows. The wind sends a light breeze gusting past us. A long, silky lock of dark hair sweeps past her face. Automatically I reach out to brush it away.
Maya stares up at me, and I immediately regret the action. It just came naturally, for some reason.
But before I can apologize for my forwardness, Rae and Tom return with the battery. After they drop it off, I set to work replacing it. Maya sits in the driver’s seat and turns the car on when I’m done, and it purrs to life.
“You’re all set,” I say, lowering the hood and brushing off my hands. I walk over to the driver’s side window, and Zelda pops her head out, her tongue wagging. I scruffle her ears gently. “Do you approve, Zelda?”
She barks.
Then, suddenly, Maya says in a rush, “Where would you want to go? To dinner, I mean.”
A slow smile tugs at my lips. “If you like sushi, I know an awesome place in the city. If you prefer anything else, I probably know other awesome places. I’m kind of a foodie.”
“Sushi’s my favorite,” she says. “I mean, I don’t have a sophisticated palate or anything, but I do like a Cali roll.” Maya chuckles. “That probably makes me sound like a noob.”
“It makes you sound like a woman who knows what she wants, what she likes,” I reply, meeting her gaze.
I expect her to look away, but she doesn’t.
Her slender throat works as she swallows. “Okay. Seven o’clock.”
5
Maya
At a quarter to seven, I’m dressed and pacing the living room, trying to fight off a panic attack. I draw deep breaths to the bottoms of my lungs and release them slowly, over and over.
From her perch on the sofa, Zelda watches me closely, as if she understands something’s wrong and wants to keep a close eye on me.
“It’s no big deal,” I tell her between breaths. “I have nothing to worry about. I deserve to have a night out with…” I stop and sigh, hands on my hips. “An amazing guy.”
Zelda pants a doggy smile at me as if to say damn straight.
I glance in the round entryway mirror. I’m so inexperienced dating-wise, I had no idea what I should even wear on a date. My first attempt resembled the business casual I wear to work, but even I knew that was the wrong choice. I FaceTimed with Rae, who made me scan the video over my closet. Eventually, she helped me decide on the right outfit—snug-fitting jeans with a high waist that flatter my curves, and a silky, lace-edged black camisole with a plunging V-neck. I wasn’t so sure about that, but Rae insisted it would be perfect. I added a touch of gold jewelry, left my hair down and flowing, and spritzed on a little perfume.
For about five minutes, I felt sexy and sophisticated and ready to knock his socks off—or whatever the kids say these days.
Then, the worry, the self-doubt, the crippling feelings of inadequacies snuck up on me, causing me to wear a path in the living room rug as I wait for the date I don’t think I can handle.
I want to cancel. I want to tell him I changed my mind. But he’ll be here literally any second, and I—
The doorbell rings.
Zelda lets out an excited bark.
“Fuck,” I mutter, then go to the door. I draw one more deep breath, let it out slowly, and open the door.
Cameron stands before me in a light-colored button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hands tucked in his jean pockets. He looks casual and sexy and effortless, and the light evening breeze wafts his delicious, warm, spicy cologne right into my nose.
He gives me a one-sided grin, the dimple side, and I melt. “Hi. You look beautiful.”
“Hi,” I say on an exhale. “I—hi. Um, I think someone wants to see you.”
Zelda dances at our feet—well, his, really, her paws pressed against his shin as she begs to be picked up. Chuckling, he leans down and scoops her up, then kisses the side of her head. Then he glances at me. “Sorry. I should’ve asked first.”
I smile. Seeing him, all tall and build and strong, cooing at my tiny little dog, further makes me melt. And puts me at ease a little. It’s okay. Cameron is safe. Nothing to worry about. “It’s okay. She loves the attention.”
“Will she be okay while we’re gone?”
I nod. “Margie’s going to babysit. She’s out getting Zelda brand-new toys and treats for their first girls’ night, so she’ll be over in about twenty minutes. But Zelda will be okay by herself until then. I don’t want us to miss our reservation.”
He sets her down. “Are you ready to go?”
That is the question. I pause, considering it. He waits patiently, gazing at me with understanding brown eyes.
“Yes,” I say finally. “Yes. I’m ready.”
He takes me to a trendy sushi eatery called Domo, with sleek, stark décor, low lights, and pounding house music. At first I’m afraid the music could set me off, since I don’t do well with loud noises and crowded spaces, but the host takes us to a secluded, quiet dining area near the back of the restaurant, with tall, closed-off booths and a chill vibe that immediately puts me at ease. There are even restrooms back here, so I won’t need to cross over into the louder part.
“This okay with you?” Cam asks, brushing my hand.
The knowing, gentle way he asks suddenly makes me want to cry. It’s such a little thing, but it makes me feel so seen, so understood. I don’t need to be ashamed for dealing with anxiety. There are people in this world who will help me find comfort so I can live.
I nod, smiling at him. “It’s perfect.”
When we’re seated and the server has come by to take our drink order—Moscow Mule for me, Crown and Coke for him—I gaze at him across the candlelit table, suddenly feeling emboldened.
“How did you know?” I ask. “About…me.”
He smiles softly. “I’ve been in the military for fifteen years. I’ve deployed five times. I know what anxiety disorders look like. I just want you to be comfortable. Happy.”
My face, as usual, heats up.
The server drops off our drinks. Cam picks up his glass and holds it out to me. “Here’s to stepping out of our comfort zones.”