Page 76 of Until Then

“I like her.”

I like everything about Izzy.

How she laughs.

How full of life she is.

The way her eyes sparkle when she’s excited.

How much she loves slushies.

The list is endless.

“Then you have your answer.”

She puts a few white flowers into the bunch and hands it to me, and I’m instantly hit with the floral scent.

A smile takes over my face as I assess the details. “It’s perfect.”

If Izzy were a bouquet, she would most certainly be this one. It’s a little wild and mismatched, but unique and captivating. Beautiful.

She beams at the praise. “Good. I’m glad.”

Once I’ve paid, I continue down the street. I stop at the coffee shop to kill time and grab my usual, then swing by the restaurant. They don’t normally take reservations, but since it’s tourist season, and since I’ve done quite a bit of work for them over the years, they make an exception.

As I step outside again, I pull my phone from my pocket and check the time. I’ll be a little early, but I can park down the street for a few minutes if I need to.

The closer I get to home, the faster my heart beats.

I’m on the precipice of something new, something that could change my life. But only if I can get out of my head and stop overthinking it.

21

IZZY

The doorbell rings downstairs,sending Wonton into a tizzy.

His bark is high-pitched as he darts out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Derrick left a while ago, claiming to have some things to do before our date.

I fasten the clasp on my necklace, give my reflection one last glance, and carefully make my way downstairs. It’s been months since I’ve worn heels, and my traitorous feet seem to have forgotten how to function in them.

With one foot, I gently slide Wonton away from the door, paranoid he might run out when I open it.

When I turn the knob and pull, the sight I’m met with sends a fizzy, warm thrill through me. It’s Derrick. He stands on the doormat, wearing a happy but shy smile and holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Hi.” For a moment, it’s the only word my brain can conjure. Then, somehow, a flood of words comes tumbling out. “Is your key not working?”

He shakes his head. “A real date, remember? That means I pick you up at the door.”

I swear my heart dips, a joyful swoon.

“These are for you.” He shoves the flowers toward me.

I take them, smiling at the thistle and blue hydrangea and some sort of wispy white flower, along with several others. They shouldn’t go together, but somehow, they do. Like us.

“Let me put these in water, then we can go.”

Derrick waits outside the door, and just inside, Wonton whimpers in confusion while I take care of the bouquet.

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