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“We’ve had dinner every night this week.”

“I know, but—” He stops speaking and grins at me. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

“Enigma, remember?”

Chuckling, he runs a hand through his hair. “Fair enough. I meant, I know that last night was intense and that everything is up in the air right now. I know that things are risky, but I would love to cook you dinner tonight. A date,” he adds. “That’s what I’m asking for. Wow, you can really tell I’ve never done this before.”

I can’t keep the smile from my face, or the fact that I feel like I’m floating on air over here. “That would be great.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I reply, feeling giddier than I have in a long time.

“Great.”

“Can I borrow your phone, though?”

“Of course. Why?”

“I think I need a friend to help me decide what to wear.”

MAVERICK

Stomach twisting with nerves, I can barely focus on the task at hand: inventory. Sadie took my cell upstairs an hour ago, where I told her to leave it just in case she needs it again.

A date.

I haven’t been on a date since I took Lisa Cobb to the movies in my junior year of high school.

What am I even supposed to do? Dinner is easy enough. And sure, I’ve seen the occasional date on movies or on TV, but this is real life.

Oh, what am I doing?

Someone knocks on the front door, so I leave the back room and make my way around the counter to open it. Anastasia stands there beaming at me, a garment bag in hand.

“Hey, Mav!”

“Hey.”

“We brought you coffee, too,” she says as she comes into the bar.

“We?” As I say it, Sawyer steps into view with a small suitcase in one hand, a tray of coffees in the other.

“Hey there, Romeo,” he greets with a grin.

This cannot be happening. I’m nervous enough as it is. The last thing I need is Sawyer coming in here and making me even more so. The guy has never met a silent moment he hasn’t filled with sarcasm.

“Leave him be,” Anastasia scolds. “Give him his coffee and help me carry stuff up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies with another grin my direction before stepping into the bar.

I shut and lock the door, frustration already eating away at my mood. But, hey, at least I’m not consumed with nerves now. Small victories.

“Here you go, Mav.” Sawyer offers me a paper cup of coffee, then takes another out and sets it on the bar top. “That’s mine. Be back down in a few.”

Anastasia has already made her way down the hall, headed straight to the stairs that will take her up to the apartment.

A garment bag.