EVERYBODY HAS A different definition of moving on. For me, selling the house I shared with Wyatt is a way for me to move on with my life. For my mom, moving on means dating. So here I am, sitting across from Derek, who’s actually a really nice guy. He’s been attentive, holding the door open for me, waiting for me to take a seat before he does, and asking me about my day while listening intently. He’s not bad looking either. He’s in shape and has a good sense of style, but for some reason, I’m not really here with him. I keep zoning out as he talks about his job as an architect.
“I’m not boring you, am I?” he asks in a polite tone.
“No, not at all. Sorry! It’s just,” I sigh, “this is a little weird for me.”
“I understand. My mom was telling me about, you know,” he says, waving his hand in my direction.
“Yeah. I’m okay talking about it. It’s just weird to be out with another guy.” I offer him a small smile.
“It’s your first date since you lost him,” he says with an understanding smile.
“Yeah.”
“Are you still . . . how do I say this . . . it sounds weird to say hung up on him because it’s not like it’s your ex-boyfriend and he’s moved on . . . ” he says, letting his words hang.
“No, I’m okay. I mean, I’m okay with everything, really. It’s just I’m sitting here thinking about what will happen next—will you try to hold my hand or kiss me good night, or I don’t know,” I shrug and laugh as I look away from him. “I think I just made this weirder.”
Derek laughs. “What if we just take this one step at a time? No holding hands if you don’t want that, and no kiss if you don’t want that. I mean, we haven’t even gotten our entrees yet.”
“You’re right,” I say, smiling and feeling a little bit less uncomfortable. It is just dinner. I have the bad habit of jumping ahead of myself in every aspect of my life. Sometimes I need to learn to rein in some of my anxiety and just breathe. I start to tell Derek about the hospital and the kids I worked with the other day. I tell him how much it opened my eyes to the things I have and take for granted. Dinner goes by quickly after that, and when we reach my brother’s house, the sun has gone down.
“Looks like you have company tonight,” Derek comments, as his headlights flash over the cars outside.
“Yeah, Victor loves having people over. It’s a shame he can’t remember to turn the porch light on,” I say, making him chuckle.
“I’ll walk you up and make sure you don’t trip.”
We reach the door and stand there awkwardly, not knowing what the right thing to do is.
“So . . . kiss or no kiss?” he asks. I can’t see his face, but the smile in his voice makes me feel comfortable.
I take a moment to think about it. I haven’t had a pair of lips on me since Wyatt, but I can’t say I’m not curious to know what it would be like to kiss someone else. Kissing Wyatt always felt easy. It felt comfortable, familiar. Taking a deep breath, I lean forward. Derek’s hands hold the upper part of my arms, and his lips press to mine. A moment later, the light turns on and the front door opens. My eyes pop open, and Derek and I jerk apart from one another like we’ve been caught doing a lot more than just kissing. It feels like ninth grade all over again. Our heads snap to Oliver, who’s holding the door open, arms crossed over his black t-shirt. His green eyes bounce from me to Derek and back again.
“Sorry. I didn’t know you were out here,” he says, though he doesn’t look sorry at all.
“A gentleman walks his date to the door,” Derek says, smiling at me.
I return his smile. “Thanks for the date.”
“It was my pleasure. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. Maybe we can do it again soon?”
I glance at Oliver who’s brazenly watching our conversation, and I glare at him before looking back at Derek. “Sure. Call me.”
I wait until he’s halfway to his car before I face Oliver again, narrowing my eyes. “Well? Weren’t you leaving?”
“No, I just heard a noise outside and came to check it out.”
His eyes are glinting with mischief, and it fuels my anger. I move to brush past him, but he grabs my arm and leans into my ear, his whispered growl making me burn from the inside out.
“When do I get to take you on a date?” he asks.
My heart begins to beat frantically, and I tear my arm away. “Never.”
I hear him chuckling behind me as I run up the stairs like a scared little girl, and I realize I am scared. I’m fucking terrified of having Oliver in my life because the last time I let him in, I barely made it out with my heart intact. I wonder if he even knows it.