Me: I miss you.

Brody: Can’t wait for tomorrow.

Me: Me either.

Brody: Pick a really cheesy one.

Me: No doubt.

Brody: Goodnight, Willow.

Me: Night.

Jeez, I’m smiling like a fool. I’m already in so deep. Please don’t break my heart.

My phone chimed. I was still holding it and pushed the message button without looking to see who it was from.

Jenna: Rockin’ your world yet?

Me: Shut up.

Jenna: I’ll take that as a big yes.

I stood in front of my closet and looked at all my T-shirts. Never in my life had I picked out an outfit the night before, but I wanted to find just the right shirt to wear on my date—yes! A date—with Brody. I flipped through them and found a black one that said, I can’t wait to be ashamed of what I do this weekend. Shazam! That was the one. If that didn’t clue him in to the kissing thing, nothing would.

I laid the T-shirt out with a pair of Khaki skinny jeans and my brown riding boots. Dumping my crap out of my messenger bag, I put what I’d need into a small, brown leather purse that matched my boots.

There. That looks good, right? Maybe. I don’t know. I’ll have to call Jenna. She knows about normal clothes.

I dialed Jenna. When she picked up, I said, “Yes, you were right. There, can we talk about something else now?”

“Yes. As long as you admit I was right, I’m good.” She giggled.

“I need clothes advice.”

“Why?”

“We’re going on a date tomorrow,” I said.

“Okay, first off, no writing across your boobs.”

“He wants me to wear a sarcastic T-shirt. He specifically asked me to,” I said.

“Hmm. Oh, right, I get it,” she said.

“What?”

“It gives him a reason to look at your boobs without looking like a perv.”

I laughed. Hard. When I finally stopped long enough to talk, I told her, “But, I want him to look at my boobs.”

“Slut.”

“Who said I wasn’t? It’s gonna be all over the school by Monday anyway.”

“Yeah, well, you’d be surprised how many people don’t like Jaden and his crap. I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Willow. When it comes down to it, you’re the one people actually like between the two of you. No one could figure out why you stayed with him in the first place.”

“We’ll see.”

“So what are you wearing?” She sighed.

“Okay, I have a black T-shirt and—”

“What’s the stupid T-shirt say?” Jenna interrupted.

“I can’t wait to be ashamed of what I do this weekend.”

“Actually, that isn’t too bad.” She laughed. “It might give Brody a hint.”

“That’s what I’m counting on,” I said.

“You’re bad. What else?”

“Okay. I have Khaki skinny jeans, my brown riding boots, and my brown leather purse. How’s that?”

“Sounds like I’ve created a diva. Finally.” Jenna huffed. “So where are you going?”

“Just dinner and a movie.” I still couldn’t stop smiling.

“It sounds like you’re a smiling fool.”

“You can’t hear a smile,” I said.

“I can hear the smile in your voice. I hope you’re finally happy.”

“Thanks, Jenna.”

“Ugh, too much mush. I gotta go. Call me after your date and tell me everything, and I mean all the gooey details.”

“Okay. ‘Bye.”

I went to bed right after I got off the phone. The sooner I went to sleep, the sooner Saturday would get there.

I’m so totally pathetic.

My phone chimed first thing Saturday morning. I slammed my hand on my alarm clock, wondering why the sound wouldn’t stop. Finally, I woke up enough to realize that it wasn’t my alarm. I grabbed my phone off the bedside table and looked at the message. A goofy smile spread across my face.

Ugh, my cheeks hurt from smiling.

Brody: Good morning, gorgeous.

Me: Hey, sexy.

Wow, I’m getting bold. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll take my hints. Kiss me. Please, please, please. Just do it. Man up and pucker up.

Brody: Sexy, huh?

Me: Mm-hmm.

Why am I blushing? It’s not like he can see me or anything.

My phone rang, I jumped, and my phone flew across the bed. I bunched up my comforter, pulling it to me so I could reach it.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sexy.”

Oh. Kill. Me. Now.

“Hi, Ace.” I snuggled back into my pillows.

“So you think I’m sexy, huh?”

“You asked me that already.”

“I know, but it occurred to me that I’d like to hear you tell me in your soft, sexy voice while I’m lying in bed.”

Oh, wow. How can he say things like that and not expect my body to go berserk every time he’s around me? I need that damn kiss.

“Yes, Brody, I think you’re incredibly sexy, with a body to die for, a smell that makes me dizzy, perfectly mussed hair, bedroom blue eyes, and full lips that send me into a frenzy every time they skim across my skin.”

Dead silence.

Crap. That was too much. He probably thinks I’m some kind of stalker—or worse, Sarah.

I cleared my throat. “Are you there?” I whispered.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” I was desperate to find a way to unsay what I’d just said. I’d made things awkward. I felt tears press behind my eyes. I wasn’t even sure why I was starting to cry. I’d just opened my mouth to tell him that I had to go when he spoke.

“I’m trying to find the right words to tell you how you make me feel, but I don’t think they’ve been discovered yet. You’re sexy, yeah. Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe you. But that’s not all. You make me feel, I don’t know, whole.”

And then, I knew why I was crying. No one had ever said anything as sweet as that to me. No one. Ever.

“Brody.” My breath hitched. “I really don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“You’re just you. That’s all you ever needed to do. Just be you.”

We talked a while longer, although our conversation veered away from declarations of how wonderful and sexy we found each other to more mundane topics because, as Brody complained, “It’s way too much mush for this early on a Saturday morning.”

“How can you go from telling me how beautiful I am in one sentence to being such a guy in the next?” I asked with a laugh.

“Um, gee, ’cuz I am a guy?”

“Funny.”

“Have you picked out what movie we’re going to see?”

“Yup.”

“Gonna tell me?” he asked.

“Nope,” I answered, popping the ‘p.’

“Okay. Have you picked out what you’re gonna wear?”

“Yup, and I’m not going to tell you about that either except that I found something suitably sarcastic just for you.” I smiled, picking at my comforter.

He chuckled. “Since you won’t tell me what you’re going to wear tonight, what are you wearing now?” His voice turned husky.

My hand stilled, and my heart beat a little faster. “Are you seriously asking me? Because now that we’re dating, that’s totally a question I’ll answer, and it might not be one that you’ll like. Or you might like it. I don’t know your preferences… yet.”

He groaned. “Yet?”

“Yet. I plan to find out,” I said.

“Alright, Willow, I call your bluff. What are you wearing?” he asked, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“A pair of pink boy shorts with a white tank top that doesn’t quite cover my stomach. Nothing else.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I told you I’d never lie to you. Your turn.”

“I don’t remember what I’m wearing. I can’t get the image of you out of my head.”

I laughed. He groaned.

Chores, chores, chores. Even they didn’t seem so bad. At least they helped pass the time until Brody picked me up. I hadn’t come up with a story to tell my mom and Ralph yet. But as luck would have it, my mom told me they’d be going out. Ralph had to attend a business dinner with a reception to follow. So that took care of them for the night. They’d be gone before Brody picked me up. They would most likely still be gone when he brought me home or they’d be sufficiently sloshed that they wouldn’t pay attention. Either way worked in my favor.