Chapter 15
Jeremiah
“I don’t know, Wes. A tie seems a bit stuffy.”
I tugged uncomfortably at the knot around my neck, the fabric suddenly resembling a boa constrictor coiling tighter around my windpipe.
Wes’s face grew bigger on my phone screen as he leaned in closer to the camera, a prominent frown on his lips. Or at least what I could see of them. He was mostly eyeballs and nose at this point.
“You asked for my advice, didn’t you?”
I sighed heavily. “Yes, but this isn’t game day. I don’t need to be wearing a full suit and tie.”
“But this is game day! This is the biggest game day of all,” he insisted, sitting back once more. “My best friend is finally going on a first date.”
Now I really couldn’t breathe. One sharp tug unraveled the knot I’d redone at least five times, and I tossed the stifling tie to the side.
The first two buttons of my shirt were next until I could finally suck in enough air to fill my lungs.
I impulsively reached for the silver chain peeking out from underneath my shirt, tugging the necklace free.
I ran my thumb over the smooth links until I reached my wedding band.
It’d taken me over a year to take it off my finger, and even then, it’d mostly been because its presence prompted questions and inquiries from others about my wife.
Wearing it on a necklace that I could tuck under my shirt saved me the heartache of explaining and kept away the pitying looks from strangers.
“Ooh, yes! Do that. That’s hot with a few buttons undone.” Wes’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. “And keep the suit jacket in case she gets cold. Nothing makes a girl swoon like a guy offering her his jacket.”
That earned him an amused smile as I eyed him through my phone.
“How often do you pull that move?”
“Oh, all the time.” He winked obnoxiously. “Perks of it being cool temps in Seattle more often than not.”
I had very clearly enjoyed seeing Zoe in my over-sized t-shirt. I could only imagine what seeing her in a dress with my suit jacket draped around her shoulders would do to me.
Okay, yeah. The blazer stayed.
I tucked the necklace back inside of my shirt, and the cool metal of the ring settled against my skin as I adjusted my collar, the small weight of it reassuring. Something settled inside my chest as well.
“Perfect,” Wes murmured, his words mirroring my thoughts. “You’re going to have a great night. I’m proud of you, Jay.”
I gave him a soft smile, grateful to have him in this moment, even if only through a screen.
“Thanks for talking me through it.”
“Anytime.”
I’d mostly kept my nerves in check as I drove to pick up Zoe from her apartment, but the second I hit downtown, the reality of it all hit me full force, tying my stomach into knots.
My finger shook as I pressed the intercom button with Z.
Daniels written neatly below it. I reminded myself to take deep breaths.
“Hey!” Zoe’s voice came through the speaker. “I’ll be right down.”
“Sounds good,” I replied lamely.
I shoved my hands in my pockets, unsure what to do with them since I didn’t have my miniature sketchbook on hand. I’d considered bringing it, but ultimately decided against it in hopes of pushing myself to not be so dependent upon it to regulate myself.
When I had first picked up the habit, I only ever doodled before hockey games or between periods when we were waiting in the locker room.
After Sadie’s accident, it had become a permanent accessory, always shoved in my back pocket.
I never left home without one and had filled up seven of them by the time the first anniversary of her passing had come around.
The door clicked open and all thoughts flew out of my mind the second Zoe stepped out in a satin emerald dress. It brought out the green in her hazel eyes and—God help me—it hugged her curves perfectly. Now my hands itched to smooth over the fabric covering her hip.
She smiled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I quickly scooped my jaw up from the ground and held my hand out to help her down the two short steps. “You look stunning.”
Her cheeks flamed a bright pink, and I smiled even wider.
“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”
Her playful words helped cut through the sudden tension between us, putting us back into familiar territory, and my shoulders relaxed as I turned toward the car.
She’d kept her hand in my own, and I felt like a giddy school boy walking a girl to class.
I only let go to open the passenger door for her.
“So what is our Charlie girl up to tonight?” Zoe asked once I’d climbed in behind the steering wheel. Then she made a face. “Or is talking about children off limits on a first date?”
I chuckled, but her use of the word ‘our’ had my stomach doing a pleasant flip. However, I decided not to look too deeply into it. This was only our first date.
“She’s with my parents tonight having a sleepover,” I answered. “My mom texted me a picture of them making popcorn with melted marshmallows and chocolate drizzle.”
Reaching out to my parents to ask them if they could watch Charlie for the night had taken just about as much encouragement and not-so-gentle pushes from Wes as getting ready for this date had.
I hated to inconvenience them at all. Especially for the selfish reason of going out with Zoe.
But my mother’s audible excitement on the phone and insistence that I let Charlie sleep over more often lessened the guilt, if only slightly.
“Okay, I’m kind of jealous of her.”
“So you’re saying I should just turn around and take us back to my place for popcorn?” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder.
Zoe laughed and shook her head. “Maybe another time.”
Another time. I liked the idea of that.
Arriving at Montebello, I hurried around my car to open her door for her. Her lips parted, and I held up a finger to stop her before she could even utter a sound.
“I know that you’re an independent woman, but please,” I implored, “let me spoil you tonight.”
Her mouth clamped shut and she eyed me, but I could see her resistance waning. When she didn’t argue, I took that as a win. I offered her my arm, and she took it, walking inside with me to check-in for our reservation.
Montebello was like most fancy restaurants; dark fabrics save the white tablecloths and low lighting that lent to a more intimate atmosphere.
The hostess sat us at a table near the back.
I didn’t miss the flush in Zoe’s cheeks when I pulled her chair out for her.
The ends of her hair brushed over my knuckles as she sat, and I took a self-indulgent second to admire the glossy waves.
“Thank you,” she mumbled softly.
“You’re welcome.”
I took my seat and reached for a menu, Zoe’s nose already buried in her own, presumably to hide her blush. Too bad I’d already seen it.
“Do you like wine?” I asked.
“Never acquired the taste for it. Or any alcohol for that matter.”
A knot loosened in my chest I hadn’t even realized was there.
“Do you drink?” She peeked over the top of her menu at me.
I quickly shook my head. “No. I’ve been sober for several years now.”
Her eyes lingered on mine, several questions in them that I could tell she wasn’t sure if she could ask.
“Drunk driver.” I found myself explaining before I’d even decided to do so. I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat. “It was a drunk driver that caused Sadie’s accident.”
And the loss of her life.
The waiter appeared with glasses of water, and I quickly took a drink in hopes of washing down the lump that had appeared. I waited until he’d left again before I continued.
“I was coming home from a series of away games. We landed in the middle of the night, but Sadie had her mom watch Charlie so she could pick me up.” I traced my thumb through the condensation on the glass.
“I told her I could just get a ride share, but she insisted. Something about how she couldn’t stand to be separated for a minute more than necessary after being apart for so long. ”
My eyes began to burn, and I blinked away the threat of tears the best I could. The irony didn’t escape me.
Zoe didn’t say anything for a couple heartbeats, but then she reached across the table to place her hand on top of mine, her palm warm in comparison to the ice water I was gripping like a lifeline.
“Thank you for sharing that with me.”
All I could manage was a nod in response, sure that my voice would only come out croaky. But Zoe didn’t waver, her gaze gentle and her touch a balm to the aching in my chest that seemed to never dull.
“What do you say, then, to ordering Shirley Temples?”
The spark of mischief in her eyes that I loved so much had returned, and her lips twitched as if dying to tug up into a smirk. I let out a short laugh.
“A Shirley Temple sounds pretty damn good right now,” I admitted.
That made a full-on grin appear as she sat up straight in her seat, unfortunately removing her hand from my own.
“Perfect.”
With our drinks settled, we set to the task of figuring out what to eat. Zoe had looked up the menu beforehand which meant she decided faster than I did. My problem was that everything sounded good.
As soon as our waiter appeared with our drinks, Zoe plucked the cherry out of the glass and bit it off the stem.
I tried not to stare, but I wasn’t very successful if I was being honest with myself.
The age-old belief that you were a good kisser if you could tie a knot in the stem with your tongue popped into my head and then I was thinking about kissing Zoe.
“Are you originally from Denver?” she asked.
I tilted my head back and forth. “Basically? My parents live in Aurora, but it’s close enough that I just say Denver when people ask. What about you? Have you always been a Colorado girl?”
“Unfortunately, no. I grew up just outside of Miami.”
“I would have never guessed.”