Eight
QUINN
And Wade was picking me up in thirty minutes.
I collapsed on my bed in a huff, clothes smacking me in the face as the bed bounced.
“So what’s wrong with this dress?” Zoe asked, her tone a mix of boredom and exasperation.
“It’s too girly,” I whined.
“And what was wrong with the one before that?” Audrey asked.
“It was too conservative; it looked like I was going for a job interview at a mortuary.” I huffed.
“I think she said the one before that looked like something old Mrs Nable would wear,” Bella supplied before Audrey or Zoe could ask another question. “It’s time to cut the bullshit.”
My boss was as forthright as her mum; she often played devil’s advocate.
We’d all closed the salon as soon as the last client had left—they were determined that I looked my best for my first date with Wade.
With my hands massaging my temples, I bit my tongue and waited for her to continue the conversation.
“You’re nervous as hell about going on this date.
Nothing you put on is going to be perfect.
” Bella sat next to me, fingering the fabric of the dress.
“You might think that this dress is too girly, but the colour complements your eyes, the cut shows off your curves—and that split there? Wade is going to go bananas when he sees glimpses of your thigh peeking out while you walk.”
“Bella is right,” Audrey agreed. “Wade has been crazy about you for years; this date isn’t about impressing him.”
“But the women—” I started to object.
“What women? Sure, there are plenty of rumours floating around the internet.” Bella levelled me with her gaze. “But if Wade had anyone he was even vaguely serious about in the last few years, between my mum and Mrs Nable, we would’ve heard something.”
“But…” My words fell flat.
“No more buts,” Bella interrupted me. “Wade will be here soon, so let’s finish getting you ready.”
My friends got to work, fixing my hair and makeup, finishing with my signature, deep red lipstick. They’d kept me busy enough that I was out of my head when Wade turned up. I walked down the hallway silently and overheard him chatting with Max.
“So what are your intentions with my mum?” I struggled to hide the giggle that formed at my son imitating the protective family members he’d no doubt seen on TV.
“I want to make her happy,” Wade answered straight forwardly.
“You already make her happy, so why do you need to date her, too?” I could hear the sternness in his voice. “Why do things need to change?”
“One day, you’ll find someone and want to be with her always,” Wade explained.
“But you’ll just move away again, just like Dad did.” The vulnerability in my son’s voice made my heart sink.
“I’m home for good now, Max.” Wade’s tone was reassuring. “I’m looking for a house here to move into soon and, one day, I hope you and your mum can move in there with me.”
“I’d like that,” Max replied softly. I rolled my eyes and fought back the urge to tell Wade not to make promises to my son that he can’t keep, but he hadn’t made any promises. He just shared his wish for a future together. A wish that I shared.
I gave them a few more moments before I turned the corner. Upon seeing him, I let out an audible breath. Something inside settled. This was my best friend. We’d had a connection for decades that nothing had been able to sever.
“Happy birthday!” I said, waving my hands about awkwardly, not sure how to act on a date full stop, let alone a date with Wade.
“You look beautiful,” he said as he pulled me into a hug, lightly kissing my cheek.
My body lit up at the idea that perhaps he wanted to kiss me in more places.
He took me by the hand and led me to a new SUV, opening the door and waiting until I was safely inside before rounding the car to the driver’s door.
“So where are we going?” I asked.
“I’ve booked a balcony table at Bruno’s,” Wade said sheepishly.
“Oooooh, balcony, fancy…” I said, the word vomit continuing to flow out of my mouth.
“I’ve, ummm…” Wade looked down at his shoes. “I’ve always wanted to take you on a balcony date at Bruno’s. It always seemed that’s where the serious couples went…”
I grinned at Wade’s shyness. It seemed we were both anxious about this, and I found it comforting. His awkwardness reminded me of my teenage friend. Sitting in the car with our old favourite songs in the background, we fell into conversation easily.
Being on a date with my best friend was surreal.
On the one hand, we chatted seamlessly from one topic to the next, but on the other hand, each time his hand reached for mine or my arm accidentally brushed against his chest, the tension rose.
For the first time in years, I was hyperaware of the proximity of someone else, and this time it was Wade. And that was both exciting and scary.
At the end of the night, after we finished dinner and we were in the car on the way home, the butterflies in my stomach grew.
There was no point in denying that I’d fantasised about kissing him.
I’d fantasised about so much more than kissing Wade.
The possibility that it would really happen? It made me giddy.
We pulled into the driveway. He made me wait in the car while he ran around to open the door for me, and held my hand as I stepped out of the car. He didn’t pull his hand away as we walked up to the door of my childhood home, anticipation sending shivers throughout my body.
“Thank you for tonight.” Wade faced me at the door, cupping my face and running a thumb over my cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
His eyes fixed on mine. I got caught in his gaze like a tractor beam, his face slowly lowered to mine. I closed my eyes, falling into the sensation, anticipating the kiss, the follow up to our first more than a decade ago.
Then he kissed me on the cheek.
On the cheek!
Backing away from me and quickly walking back toward his car, he called over his shoulder, “I’ll be here to pick you up at 7:00 p.m. tomorrow for our second date.”
I slipped inside the house, a mix of confusion and frustration.
Silently, I walked up the hallway to check on Max, who was still awake with his headphones on.
I gave him a goodnight kiss and encouraged him to go to sleep, then wandered off to my own bedroom.
Climbing into bed, I found myself full of nervous energy.
The night had gone so well until the peck goodnight.
Closing my eyes, I tried not to think about how hot and cold Wade had been.