Page 37 of From the Ashes

He probably knows I’m asking for us to avoid going out in public for various reasons. No, I don’t want my parents or any of my colleagues to see us and complicate this delicate thing we’re nurturing. However, it’s more important to me that we’re not bothered by waiters or under the pressure of closing time. I want to talk until the sun comes up if possible.

And yes, the fact that my bedroom would be twenty feet away is also a consideration. I’m still a sneaky bastard, after all.

“I’d love that,” he says, sounding like he means it. “Okay, I’ll let you get back to work. I need to eat some lunch before we get another call. But I’ll text you my availability, alright?”

“It’s a date,” I say softly.

“Yes, it is,” he says firmly.

We close the call, and I stand outside hugging my phone to my chest for another minute until I really have to go back inside to face Mrs. Brown and my father.

Is this real? Zahir seriously still wants to give this a chance? He’s willing to risk trusting me after I fucked up so many times?

Who knows where this might lead. All I know is that our story isn’t over yet, and that’s enough for me.

CHAPTER 16

Zahir

Despite the restof the One-Thirteen hounding me relentlessly after my call with Colt, I kept the details of the conversation to myself. However, it was difficult to hide the ridiculous grin that kept creeping onto my face throughout the rest of our shift.

It’s true what I’ve been telling myself all along in that nothing has really changed. But I can’t stop myself from feeling likeeverythinghas changed. We’ve turned a corner in a way we never got the opportunity to after high school.

I’m not naïve. The deal with his parents, the family business, and his career are huge obstacles that could very well tear us apart just like they did before. The difference is that when we were teenagers, I never questioned Colt’s feelings for me. I simply knew he felt the same way about me as I did him. Then I spent the next fifteen years thinking it had all been nothing but an experimental summer fling for him that meant nothing.

Now I know better.

If what drove him out of my door the other night really was fueled by his conviction that he’s fundamentally not good enough for me because of his past actions…that means he cares. Alot.And while I’ve thought of him as a liar all this time, I’mnow sure that’s not the case. He might have neglected to say certain facts out loud and allowed me to believe in things that weren’t going to happen. But he’s never actually been deceitful to me as far as I’m aware.

Yara will possibly kill me, but I can’t help myself from starting to trust him again. If he says he wants to be with me, then that’s all that really matters. I’m willing to address those other road bumps when we hit them. For now, it’s enough to give him a shot and spend some time together. If our feelings, attraction, and emotions can give us a strong enough foundation, maybe we can overcome the other outside forces or at least find working compromises?

So here we are, ready to try again. Starting by spending Friday evening at his place. Alone. We aren’t running into each other by accident or one seeking the other out to pass information along or even agreeing to meet with a third party. This is just going to be us two, on purpose, by choice.

The deliberateness of it puts the option of commitment on the table. Obviously, nothing is guaranteed. But the fact that we’re no longer dancing around the subject is as much a relief as it is terrifying.

I’ve had plenty of first dates, most of which never really went anywhere. I was usually a little nervous purely because I’m not a fan of awkward silences, but I hardly ever put much pressure on them to go well. Deep down, I think I was probably sabotaging them from the onset. I was so afraid of getting my heart broken again that I didn’t want to even open myself up to the possibility it could lead to anything serious.

As I walk up to Colt’s apartment complex, I’m feeling a whole host of varying emotions. It’s not a first date because we’ve known each other since we were fourteen. He was my best friend and my first love. A decade and a half might have passed since we parted ways, but even the short time we’ve spent togetherover the last few weeks has caught us up considerably on our adult lives. We’ve even already had sex.

But there is a bubbling anticipation as I press the buzzer on the outer door and nerves of a different kind. On the one hand, it’s Colt. I’ve never clicked with anyone in my life like I have with him. It should be easy and casual. On the other hand, this fresh new start between us feels delicate and vulnerable and so fucking important. Those countless dates with other guys had very little riding on them.

This has everything.

Once inside, I jog up a couple of flights of stairs, but hesitate outside his door, taking one last moment to really consider the implications of what we’re doing. I’ve gone over and over it and I’m sure the pros outweigh the cons, but this is such a big step that I’d be remiss if I didn’t pause and breathe for an extra second or two.

When all my thoughts settle, one stands out above the rest.

I want this. I want to spend time with Colt. That’s all that really matters.

Lifting my fist ready to knock, I feel a burst of nerves like butterflies in my stomach. Before I can hesitate further or even make my presence known, the door opens suddenly inward. Colt stands over the threshold as my hand hovers midair, and we blink at each other.

“You came,” he says breathlessly.

“Of course,” I reply, finally lowering my arm sheepishly. Okay, so perhaps we’re both a little nervous and there might be some awkwardness, after all.

But that means we both care, right?

Colt seems to come to his senses and steps back with a small chuckle. “Come in, come in.”

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