Chapter 10 #2

“Oh shit, you actually showed up,” Atlas stood in the doorway dressed in a fitted black dress shirt and matching black dress slacks.

He shouldn’t be allowed to look this good.

It really was unfair. My eyes drink him in before I remember to look at his face.

Oops, oh well. He wears his normal smirk.

Of course, he caught me looking, it would be hard not to notice.

“Was I not supposed to? I thought you agreed to go on a date with me tonight.”

I look down at the ground, avoiding eye contact.

This is beyond embarrassing. My cheeks heat and I already know they’re probably pink.

I didn’t think I’d have to explain to my obsession that I thought he wouldn’t even show up to a date he asked me on.

“Yeah, I did. I just figured you would stand me up.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened to me, but it’s not important.”

He’s quiet. I’m starting to worry he left me standing here by myself.

I wouldn’t blame him. I lift my head high enough to see him.

He’s angry. I can tell by the flutter of his jaw and the clenching of his fist. Great, the last thing I wanted to do was piss him off.

The moment he catches me looking, it’s like a mask slips in place.

The anger is gone, and in its place sits a warm smile.

What was that? Did I imagine his anger or did he hide it from me?

He shifts, holding out a flower for me to take.

I’m not really a flower person, but this one’s different.

This one seems to be made of paper, more specifically, it looks like a book page.

My eyes tear up a little as I take it from him.

This is probably the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever gotten and that’s sad to say.

“If you don’t want to go out with me, Chaos, you don’t have to. I would never force you to do something you didn’t want to do.”

There was that name again, only this time his voice sounded sullen when he said it. I knew he’d probably keep his word if I said no, but I felt he’d be disappointed if I did. I didn’t want to disappoint him, but I also didn’t want to give him the power to disappoint me either.

“Just forget I said anything, let me put this away and we can go.”

He looks me up and down and smirks. “While I love what you have on right now and I think you look adorable in it, it doesn’t exactly follow the dress code of where I’m taking you for dinner.”

I glanced down to see what the hell he’s talking about and my jaw hit the floor.

How did I manage to forget I was only in an oversized t-shirt and fucking cow slippers?

! This is the last thing I want this man to see me in, and we’ve had a full ass conversation with me wearing it.

I’m mortified. “Really funny, you ass. Were you waiting to make that joke the whole time?”

“I’d never joke about an outfit like that. If I had my way, you’d end the night in a similar outfit, except it’d be my shirt you had on.”

Rolling my eyes, I step aside and motion for him to follow me inside. He chuckles but follows after me. I walk him into the living room where the movie is still playing, but I quickly turn it off.

“Um, just give me like ten minutes and I’ll be ready to go. Make yourself at home.”

“Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

Something about the way he said it made me feel like what he said had deeper meaning. I didn’t expect him to actually go on a date with me, and I know there’s something I have to do first.

Emily

I don’t think this break will fix anything. It’s probably best

if we break up. This conversation would’ve been better done

in person, but I didn’t want to keep leading you on.

I don’t wait for his response. I don’t think I want to deal with it right now. I know how Trevor can be, and I don’t want him to ruin this for me.

I grab the first dress I see in my closet and throw it on.

It’s short and black, the right amount of classy and slutty.

It shows the perfect amount of cleavage and hugs every curve, resting mid-thigh.

This dress is too tight for me to hide a knife under it, so I throw one in my small bag.

My hair is still damp so I leave it down.

I’m really hoping it doesn’t get super frizzy, but I make sure I have a hair tie just in case.

I put on a tiny bit of eye liner, but that’s it, I don’t really wear makeup so that had to be good enough.

All that was left was shoes. He’d be disappointed if he expected heels.

I’d never be that kind of girl. Shit, he’s lucky I even put on this dress.

Skater skirts were the most girly thing I was comfortable in, but my main form of dressing nicely consisted of jeans or shorts with fishnets.

Slipping on a pair of black converse, I head back into the living room where I left Atlas waiting.

I expect him to be sitting on the couch when I round the corner but instead, he’s leaning against the wall. Soaking me in from the ground up, he chuckles at my footwear, but acts like he expected it. No snide remark and he didn’t ask me to change? This may be a promising date after all.

The way his eyes drink me, as his eyes travel up my body makes my thighs clench tightly.

I can feel the wetness start to soak into my panties.

If he looks at me like that all night I’ll be sitting in a puddle at dinner.

This was going to be torture. He mumbles something under his breath about this being more revealing than the shirt I had on earlier, but I didn’t catch the whole thing.

My nerves sky rocket as anxiety starts pumping through my veins.

Why do I care so much about what he thinks?

This is so stupid. I should’ve never agreed to this.

I turn my face away so he can’t see the tears building in my eyes.

“Is it too much? I’m sorry, I can change.

I didn’t…” I stop speaking as his warm calloused fingers grip my chin.

I feel his lips brush against my forehead.

It’s so gentle, I’m not sure if I imagined it or if he just pulled himself back.

He lifts my chin until we are eye to eye.

“You’re perfect just the way you are. I would never ask you to change. Now come on, let’s go.”

For some reason, his words make me break out in goosebumps. I can’t wrap my head around what’s happening. He said I was perfect, not that I looked perfect. He said he’d never ask me to change, did he mean my clothes?

For the second time tonight, I feel like what he says means way more than just the words coming out of his mouth. I don’t realize I haven’t moved until I feel the shocking jolt of his fingers lacing with mine as he pulls me alongside him to the car.

The car ride there is quiet, but not uncomfortable.

The radio is playing in the background and it’s peaceful.

I don’t want to break the silence and mess something up, so I watch out the window as we make our way to the highway.

I don’t really care where we’re going but, it’s safe to assume we’re driving twenty minutes to the next town over.

Where we live is so small, you won’t find anywhere fancy to dine at.

Even though I’d probably be more comfortable in jeans at a local diner, this is a date and I would like to see what he planned.

I know I have to break out of my comfort zone every once in a while, hence the dress.

It isn’t long before we pull into the parking lot of an upscale Italian restaurant.

It looks fancy, making me feel a little nervous.

I’ve never been somewhere like this. Honestly, I can’t even remember the last real date I’ve been on.

Even with Trevor, it was only to the movies or we hung out at home. This may be more than I bargained for.

He meets me at my door before I can unbuckle, opening it for me, and stands in front of the door, holding out a hand to help me out.

He turns his body in a way that has him blocking the view anyone would’ve had on me climbing out in my short dress.

Maybe romance isn’t dead after all. Who knew all it took was stalking a man you happened to literally run into one day.

We walk up to the host stand and the host greets us right away.

After Atlas gives his name for the reservation, we’re escorted to a table for two in the middle of the room.

The lighting is low, but it’s not dark. I’m honestly impressed and feel less nervous now than when I first got out of the car. I can do this.

Atlas pulls the chair out, gesturing me to sit.

I place my phone on the edge of the table so it’s out of the way, but not sitting in my lap.

Unfortunately, this dress doesn’t have pockets and my bag isn’t big enough to fit the phone and knife at the same time.

My phone vibrates with a text notification as the waiter greets us. I ignore it. Whatever it is, can wait.

The waiter presents a bottle of wine, but it’s never really been my thing so I politely decline, ordering a margarita instead.

I needed to relax a little but something tells me throwing back tequila shots wouldn’t be appropriate for such a classy establishment. A margarita would have to do the trick.

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