Rhodes

Chapter Thirteen Flying

Mila

“What the hell am I supposed to wear?” I ask, turning to Remi and Jordan with an exasperated expression. “He won’t tell me where we’re going.”

Jordan shrugs, looking nonchalant as usual. “So don’t wear anything. Be naked when he shows up and ride the dragon before you leave. He can dress you himself after.”

It’s a wonder she’s still single.

“Or, just wear something comfortable,” Remi counters. “It’s borderline too chilly for a bike ride so wherever you’re going, at last you probably won’t have to worry about that.”

That’s a fine line I’m not sure Rhodes cares about. It’s almost sixty degrees, so it’s warm enough to be outside... and if it’s a short enough ride, he might risk it. I can’t rule it out. “I don’t wear comfortable clothes,” I laugh. “Everything I own leaves imprints in my skin when I take it off.”

“I fucking hate fishnets.” Jordan shudders, rubbing her thighs. “The last time I wore them, I looked like a mermaid when I took them off. It wasn’t sexy.”

I don’t know. I don’t think guys really care about that kind of thing, but it matters how we feel about ourselves. Because of that, I don’t argue with her to defend my favorite accessory. “We’re getting off topic. Should I go with casual or drop-dead sexy? What if I choose casual and we end up at some crazy expensive restaurant or the opera or something?”

They both look at me like I’m nuts.

“The opera?” Remi scoffs. “He likes you, Mila, but no one likes anyone enough to sit through the opera.”

It’s so true it makes me laugh again, and finally I feel some of the tension easing out of my shoulders. She’s right, Rhodes isn’t the uber-fancy kind of guy. Knowing him, we’ll do something that involves adrenaline or end up at some Quentin Tarantino movie. Either way, it’s probably best I go with something I’d wear on any other day.

“Why are you so nervous, anyway?” she pushes. “Two weeks ago you were convinced you wanted nothing to do with him.”

And herein lies the only problem with keeping your emotions to yourself. When you refuse to even tell your best friends, shit like this happens. I know from the outside it seems like I’ve made a complete 180 here. I’m not blind. But in reality, all I did was stop fighting the inevitable. “He’s different now. Maybe he was always different and I just refused to see it, but the way he was with me the other night — and every night since — it’s hard to ignore. What if I’m the one who blows it this time?”

“Then blow it,” Jordan says bluntly. “People worry too much about things like that. The more you worry, the less yourself you’ll be. That’ll be what fucks you up. If he hurts you, we’ll be here with mint ice cream, pineapple froyo, and I’ll steal my roommate’s airsoft gun so you can shoot him the next time he comes near you. Otherwise... I think you’re in for something cool.”

“It’s funny hearing you say people worry too much about things,” Remi says. “Didn’t you say you told Shawn you wouldn’t date him until he’s been single for like two months?”

“So what? That’s different. People definitely need time to reset after a breakup, and I don’t want him thinking about whatever-her-name-is when he’s with me. It’s bound to happen anyway, but you guys said he’s been on and off with his ex for a while and I’m not trying to get caught in the middle of it. He’s really cute, but I’m not dumb.”

She has a point, even if Remi doesn’t like it. “You should date him now and prove to him that he has no reason to go back to his ex. What are you gonna do if he does go back to her and you don’t get your shot?”

Jordan squints at her. “Do I look like the type of bitch who can only land one man on the whole planet? I’ll be fine, I promise.”

There’s a little bit of animosity there that I don’t quite understand, so I change the subject quickly. “Okay, who wants to take bets about what this date will be?”

“He’s taking you to dinner,” Remi says.

“I bet he’ll show up and just cook for you. He seems like the type to show off like that.”

I don’t have much of an appetite right now, but dinner is something I can handle. It gives me something to do with my hands, an excuse for any silent periods, and it’s not like we’ve never eaten a meal together before.

Yeah, I can handle that.

––––––––

Three hours later, we’re all proven wrong.

Rhodes picks me up in his truck, warning me that I’m not allowed to glance in the backseat and that we’re going to be in the car for about twenty-five minutes before we get to wherever the fuck we’re going. When we’re five minutes out, he pulls off the road and hands me a blindfold. “Trust me for a little while, sweetheart. It’s worth it.”

There definitely aren’t any bars or restaurants out here in the middle of nowhere.

Tentatively, I take the blindfold and tie it around my eyes. “If this is some weird murder plot, just know that I can kill you with my bare hands.”

“I know,” he says with a chuckle. “I’d let you. Just listen to the music and I’ll be done before you know it.”

It ends up being around ten minutes before he says it’s time, and even then, he lifts me out of the truck and carries me before I can uncover my eyes. “Alright. Open up, baby.”

Carefully, I pull off the blindfold so I don’t fuck up my makeup, and what I see completely takes my breath away.

His truck is backed into a spot that looks tailor-made for one car at a time, a blanket sprawled out in the bed of it with marigolds in the center and small wooden trays I assume are to eat on. But that isn’t even the part that makes breathing difficult. The thing that has butterflies erupting inside of my stomach is the LED playground our dinner spot is facing. There are swings, monkey bars, jungle gyms, even a teeter totter all glowing brightly in different colors, and the best part is I can tell everything here was made for adults. “Come on.”

Taking my hand, he leads me to the teeter totter first, helping me straddle the side closest to the ground. He listened to me. Really heard me. It’s such a dumb, juvenile thing, but as he gets on the other side and grins at me like he’s as excited as I am... I know this is his way of telling me I’ll never be alone again.

“Do I just push?” I ask, feeling kind of dumb because I’m not exactly clear on how these work, despite what I told him originally. “Or is it supposed to just go?”

Laughing, Rhodes pushes off the ground on his side and I squeak a little while I float down. “Now you push off. We take turns.”

We both know his giant ass is doing most of the work here, but I don’t care. The sensation the up and down motion causes makes me giggle like I’m a kid all over again, and the bright purple light casting over his face just makes it better. It feels like I’m flying, then drifting, then flying again.

I don’t want it to stop.

“I wish I could get a picture of you right now, Mila. You look so fucking happy.”

And he looks like he wants nothing more than to kiss me, which settles something chaotic in my chest. It feels a little like proof that I’m safe with him. “Okay, okay,” I laugh, stuck up in the air when he fails to kick off again. “Let me down.”

“What’s wrong, don’t like it up there? I can do this all day.”

I don’t miss the Schmidt from New Girl impression in his voice, surprising me and making me like him a little more. Any guy who likes New Girl is okay in my book. “It’s fine, I can get down all by myself.”

Yet when I wiggle and jump up to try to slam my side down, nothing happens. My body weight isn’t nearly enough to move the giant on the other side unless he wants to be moved.

“You know I’m like a hundred pounds heavier than you, right?”

He’s still grinning as he slowly kicks off the ground to let me down, so in my own little version of revenge, I slide off the back the second my feet touch.

It sends him crashing back to earth. For a second, I’m terrified we broke the damn thing, but it seems to stay in one piece as Rhodes stands with a cuss and rubs his ass. “Damn, woman. You win that round. No more playground until you eat your chicken parm.”

My stomach growls as if on cue. I fucking love chicken parm, and I know my best friend had to have ratted me out. I purposefully didn’t tell him my favorite food because I didn’t want to give him any extra ammo to suck me in.

I guess it’s too late now.

“Deal,” I rush out, grabbing his hand and tugging him back to his Tacoma. He kept the food in warmers so it’s still steaming when I open the lid, making me swoon. “Oh god, this smells amazing.”

He’s beaming like he knows he did well here, and he did. He really did.

“Thank you,” I say softly, picking up one of the marigolds to sniff it as I step in closer to him. “For all of this. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for giving me a shot. I’ve never gone all out like this for a date, so I was nervous. That smile though...” His eyes scan my face. “Yeah, I’ll have to do this every so often.”

Every so often sounds good. Too much of a good thing leads to complacency and expectations, and I don’t ever want it to stop feeling this good. “You nailed it,” I admit. “I doubted you, but you nailed it.”

“Love your honesty.”

He starts eating with a grin of his own, so I let him go and don’t elaborate until the chicken parm is gone and I’m knee-deep into the bottle of wine he brought. But after that, I feel like I owe him an explanation.

“You’re not how you seem,” I start. “Even you can admit that for a while, you were hiding this part of yourself. You never acted like the kind of guy who actually listened when other people spoke, and certainly not like you had a single romantic bone in your body. So yeah, I doubted you. And I was wrong.”

It’s hard to admit I’m wrong about anything, but if I’m expecting him to put effort into this, I need to as well.

“Yeah, you’re right. I guess I keep shit hidden for the same reasons you do, and honestly I didn’t know I was romantic until I met a woman that made me want to be. You.”

I get that. I never wanted to show my submissive side until I met him, and apparently I’ve been hiding a snuggly, smiley little angel under six layers of demon my whole life. “I guess we bring out the good in each other, then.”

“That’s how it should be,” he agrees, holding out his cup for a cheers. “So, Mila... you willing to give this a shot too? Will you be my girl?”

Fuck. I wasn’t expecting him to try to make this official, not tonight. But why not? I already let him in, so making it real only offers me a level of security I don’t have right now. It’s logical.

Licking my lips slowly, I nod with my heart in my throat. “Yes.”

It’s his turn to smile adorably as pride swells in his chest, and he pulls me onto his lap for a slow, deep kiss. It feels different now, like it’s full of promise instead of lust. I’m not sure at all what led us to this or how we got here, but with the way I’m feeling right now... I’m damn glad we did.