Don't Let Go (7 page)

“When did these come?” I ask.

“While you were in the shower. The florist delivered them.” She’s beaming more than me.

I grab the note from the bouquet and my name is scripted in guy’s handwriting.

You deserve something beautiful, but they aren’t nearly as beautiful as you. I’m anxiously counting the seconds until you open the door and I see your gorgeous face. See you at six. – B

I hold the card to my chest, sighing. “Do I even want to know?’ Jessa holds her hand out for the card.

“It’s private,” I giggle, keeping it close to my chest.

“Come on, Sadie,” Jessa pleas.

“Fine.” I hand it over to her and she reads it. “Should have known a singer would write some romantic crap.” She hands it back to me. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” She still believes he was with another girl Friday night.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I say with a smile, reassuring her. I put the note in my top drawer and go over to my closet to find something to wear.

“Where is he taking you?” Jessa asks, putting her book down and turning on the television.

“He never said,” I answer, continuing to sift through my hangers. I finally decide on a red dress that flares out at the waist in a series of pleats, paired with black heels.

I get in my matching panties and bra. Even though Brady will not be seeing them tonight, they make me feel sexy. I curl my blonde hair in waves that travel down my back, pinning the front part off my face. My make-up is a little darker than Friday, but I still don’t use the dark red lipstick. I will never use it again.

It’s five forty-five and I’m already dressed and ready to go. I sit down next to Jessa while she flips through channels and wait for Brady’s call. Suddenly there is a knock on the door. Jessa and I share a puzzled look and she gets up to open the door where Brady stands on the other side with his hands in his pockets, rolling back on his heels.

I might have actually stopped breathing for a moment. He is wearing a pair of dark jeans with a red sweater and black leather jacket. His hair is loose and free of gel, pushed to the side. He smiles over to me, making me melt in desire.

“You look even more amazing than I imagined,” he says to me while I get up and walk toward him.

“Thank you. You look great, too.” I smile back.

“Shall we?” He holds out his hand.

“Please, before I throw up,” Jessa answers my question, walking back to her seat in front of the television.

“Bye, Jessa,” I say, grabbing my clutch from the dresser next to the flowers.

“Bye, guys.” She waves her hand, not looking our way.

“See ya, Jessa. Hey, Robbie wants you to give him a call,” Brady shouts toward her before he shuts the door.

“Whatever,” she remarks.

When we enter the hallway I notice a couple girls milling around, obviously trying to check out who Brady is here to pick up. They quickly scurry like rabbits when we start walking down the hall, whispering to each other. Brady puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me through the door. His Camaro is parked outside with his hazards on, probably trying to not get another parking ticket.

“You could have called, I would have come out,” I tell him while he opens the door for me.

“Sadie, this is a date. I’m not about to be some shmuck who waits in the car for you to hop in.” He closes the door once I’m securely in the seat and I admire him walking around the front of the car before he settles into his own seat.

“So, where are we going?” I pull my dress closer to my knees. It seems completely too short now that I’m seated.

“It’s a surprise.” He leans over to me.
This is it. He is going to kiss me now
. Stretching his arm over me, he grabs my seatbelt, bringing it across me, and pushes it in the clip.

“Sorry, I forgot,” I embarrassingly admit.

“Don’t apologize. I quite enjoyed it.” He winks at me and starts the car.

I can’t stop my grin while trying to roll my eyes at him.

I notice we are driving into the city, away from campus. Being so close to two different cities had been a major perk for me when I decided to attend. Brady has a CD in that I have never heard of, but his fingers hit the steering wheel to the beat. His wrists are empty of the black leather bracelets tonight.

“Do you like tapas?” He asks me, bringing my attention back to the conversation.

“Truthfully, I’ve never had them,” I confess.

“Really? That surprises me,” he exclaims.

“Why does that surprise you?”

“I just figured I would have nothing new to introduce you to. That you have pretty much experienced…everything,” he responds, making me believe he had a hard time planning this date.

“You would be astonished what I haven’t experienced.”

“I think you will like tapas,” he assures me.

“I’m sure I will.” I smile over at him.

We pull up to a small and intimate restaurant. There are only about fifteen tables and a bar along one wall. The hostess seats us in the corner by the window, handing us the menus. Brady pulls out my chair and then takes his seat across the table.

A guy about our age comes over with two waters, informing us that his name is Sergio and he’ll be our waiter. He suggests we have sangria so I order one and Brady does too, but non-alcoholic.

“Do you see anything you like?” Brady asks me, perusing the menu.

“I think I will take your lead on this. How about something with shrimp?”

“You pick three things, I will pick three things, and we can share,” he compromises.

I pick a shrimp and two vegetables and Brady picks three meat tapas. After my first sangria, I switch to water.

As we sit back in our seats waiting for our food, I start drilling Brady with questions.

“So tell me, do you plan on making a go of it with The Invisibles?”

“Um…no.” He leans back, hesitant to answer the question. “I love music and I will miss it, but I don’t want it as my career.”

“Do the others know that?”

“Yeah, Trey and Hulk are enrolled in school, too. It’s only Robbie who seems to want to pursue the dream of rock ‘n roll. He left school last year with only a year left, and I have been trying to get him to enroll again for spring semester.”

“What is your major?” I ask him since he never told me, Grant did.

“Engineering. Yours?” he asks in return.

“What kind of engineering?” I dodge his question.

“Civil.
Again
, what’s yours?”

“Why Engineering?” I spit out another question.

“I love to build things. Always have,” he answers. “Now, what is your major?”

“Guess,” I say.

“Hmm…” he contemplates. “Education. No, that’s not it.” He thinks some more. “Design, no not that either.” He puts his finger to his lip, smirking over to me. “How about Psychology?” He smiles as though he already knew the answer.

“How did you know?” I ask, shocked.

“My secret. I don’t know what you want to do with it though.” His tone becomes serious again.

“I haven’t decided. I hate the idea of being in school anymore, but I would love to counsel people,” I reveal.

“So, you haven’t applied for graduate school yet?” He seems concerned.

“No, I decided to take a year off.”

“Where did you say you are from again?” he asks innocently.

I can’t decide if I should lie or start telling the truth. I’m not ready to tell him yet, but I don’t want to lie either. I’m thankful the food comes just as I’m about to spit the truth out. But Brady can’t be detoured. After Sergio leaves the plates and we start picking at the food, he asks me again.

“Um…I don’t care to talk about my past,” I honestly answer.

“I understand, you tell me what you want. If I pry too much, let me know. But Sadie?” He waits for my full attention. “At some point I want you to trust me enough to tell me everything, okay?” he says and I nod.

“I’m from Maryland,” I reply, divulging the truth.

“Huh,” he says, remembering I lied previously to him, but he lets it go. “Did you leave both parents behind?” He cuts up his meat.

“Yes, my parents are married, living in Maryland, and wondering what the hell I’m doing down here,” I confess, making this seem too easy to reveal my past.

“Why did you leave school with only one year left?” I can tell he knows this is a bad question, but he is trying to figure out how far he can dig.

“Too much prying,” I inform him and he nods his head in confirmation. “What about you?”

“Let’s see. As you already know, I’ve lived here my whole life. My parents are divorced. My mom lives in Florida and my dad is still around. I live with Robbie, Trey, and Hulk off campus. That’s about it.” He pops a shrimp in his mouth, smiling.

“You make it sound so simple.” I admire him.

“Oh believe me, my life is anything but simple,” he admits.

We lighten up the conversation after that, talking about music and movies. Besides eighties music, the only thing we have in common is that we both love horror films.

After we finish the dinner, Brady pays the bill and escorts me out of the small restaurant. Butterflies fill my stomach when he grabs my hand outside and leads me back to the car. We only drive a few miles down the road to an area where bars fill each side of the road. He parks in one of the vacant lots, paying the man his parking fee. When he opens the door for me to get out, he pulls me into him.

“I’m really betting that when you pleaded the Fifth, it was because you enjoy eighties music.” He turns me around to face the bar across the street where a big sign across the entrance reads “Monday – Eighties Night”.

“I guess we will have to see, won’t we?” I smirk over at him and he wraps his arms around me, pulling me in closer.
This is it; he’s going to kiss me
.
His mouth draws closer to mine and I suck in a breath, licking my lips in anticipation. Right as I feel them brush along mine, he slowly moves to my cheek.

“You have no idea how much I want to feel your body against mine.” He kisses my cheek and grabs my hand, leading me into the bar. I stagger behind him as my heart picks up another beat.

We enter the bar and I’m pleased to find it’s a mix of different ages, not just the usual drunken college kids. Brady guides me past a couple of tables, taking one right next to the large dance area. There are still a lot of empty tables, but the dance floor overflows with couples. I don’t notice any groups of a single gender huddled together, but rather everyone seems to be half of a couple. “Total Eclipse of the Heart” by Bonnie Tyler plays over the speakers while the couples dance, holding each other close.

Brady motions for me to sit in a chair and then takes the seat across from me. His smile hasn’t faltered all night and I’m enjoying how easygoing his personality is. The waitress comes by, looking him up and down, but he only looks at me until I give my drink order. He gives his order and then thanks her. Either he is oblivious to women checking him out, or he has the courtesy not to look when he is on a date because the waitress is young and attractive.

The tall brunette brings our drinks and I take a small sip of my vodka tonic while Brady drinks his water. Since I have met him, he hasn’t had one drink. This spurs a red light for me. Is he a recovering alcoholic like Jessa asked?

“How come you never drink?” I wonder if he’ll lie to me.

“I do but I’m driving tonight. Anyway, I would never put you in harm’s way.” He glances over and then turns back toward the dance floor. I can’t help but feel he is keeping something from me.

“One drink wouldn’t hurt,” I offer.

“That’s what a lot of people think.” His voice goes cold and I know I struck a chord.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” I say softly, swirling the straw around my drink.

“You didn’t. It’s just everyone always asks…” he says, trailing off and then abruptly, he scoots out of his chair. “Let’s dance.” He holds out his hand.

“Footloose” by Kenny Loggins plays over the speakers while the men swing their partners around. Suddenly, I’m incredibly nervous. With only a couple sips of my drink, I’m entirely too sober to dance, especially in front of Brady. I press my heels to the ground in front of the wood planks and shake my head at Brady, but he grins and pulls me harder. I reluctantly follow, dragging my feet while Brady walks to the center of the room. We are more camouflaged here and I start to feel more comfortable. I move side to side, displaying my lack of dance skills. As much as it scares me to be close to Brady, I would rather be slow dancing than show my lack of ability to follow a beat.

Brady wraps his arm around my waist and rests his hand on the small of my back, drawing me into him. I hold my hand in his and he leads us around the dance floor in a smooth form of the box step. A calm feeling absorbs me and I start enjoying myself before he pushes me away from him. When he pulls me back to him, I smack into him and both his hands fall to my waist, catching me. We both laugh. As much as I hate to admit it, I think he just discovered I can’t dance. But instead of letting me go, he pushes me out again and this time I attempt to come back more gracefully.

We dance for another three songs before we make our way back to the table. My cheeks hurt from the constant smiles and laughs. He holds the chair out for me like the gentleman he is, while I tuck my dress under me and take a seat. My drink is completely watered down, and since we were gone from the table, I don’t really want to drink it. The cute brunette comes by and asks Brady if we want something else, never glancing my way. He looks over at me for an answer, forcing her eyes to follow his. I tell her I’ll take a water and Brady asks for the same.

A couple minutes later, she brings bottles of water and two glasses of ice. Brady twists my cap off and pours it into the glass for me. “Your mom raised you well,” I compliment his chivalry skills.

“Actually, it was my dad. He always told me to treat a girl the way you want your daughter to be treated.” One side of his mouth goes up while he places my bottle down and picks up his own.

“Sounds like a wise man”.