Page 27 of Home Safe

Five minutes later, Danae texts to come in. I check my reflection in the mirror and nod to myself. “Let’s go, West,” I say out loud.

I don’t even have to knock before Danae opens the door. She’s wearing jeans and a pink sweater, and her hair looks freshly teased. At least, I think that’s the term Sam uses when she talks about fluffing up the roots of her hair. My eyes are drawn to Danae’s lips next, not only because they’re a perfectly enticing heart shape, but also because there looks to be a sheen of fresh lip gloss on them.

My heart inflates with hope.Did she take an extra minute to freshen up before letting me in? Could she possibly have been thinking about me as much as I’ve thought about her?

I step into the entryway, and Danae takes my coat to hang on a hook. “Um, come on in,” she says, gesturing toward the living room. “Can I get you some water or anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” I say. Although, after staring at her lips, my mouth is a little dry. Danae motions for me to sit in one of the matching high back navy chairs, taking the other for herself.

“So?” she asks, crossing her legs. Her toe starts furiously tapping the air, and I notice her picking at her thumbnail. “What did you want to talk about?”

I give her a teasing smile. “First, you owe me an explanation.” Her eyes widen. “Cliff sleepers?”

Her laugh comes out in a short burst. “Oh, I didn’t realize that wasn’t a common term. Ummm, a cliff sleeper is someone who is awake one second and asleep the next. You know, like you’re walking along and suddenly fall off a cliff? Like that.” She snaps her fingers to punctuate the point. “Instantly asleep.”

“And are you a cliff sleeper?” I tilt my head, assessing her.

“I wish!” she exclaims. “I’m quite jealous of cliff sleepers. My mind fights tooth and nail against falling asleep most nights. Too much to think about.”

Her statement reminds me of the anxiety she expressed about the unknown intentions of our conversation. I don’t want to be a cause for anxiety in Danae’s life, so I decide to cut right to the chase.

“It’s a good term—Ilike it,” I say then clear my throat. “Listen, Danae, I’m really sorry that my text earlier worried you, but I wanted to talk in person and not over text. I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to go out on a date with me.”

Danae’s bouncing foot stills. Her fidgeting fingers freeze, and her perfect lips part in shock.

“I’m sorry? You . . . you want to go on a date with me?” she asks, voice small. Disbelieving.

I maintain eye contact as I nod at her. I’m distracted by the sparkles of gold in her hazel eyes in the process, but I speak up to clarify. “Yes, I’d like to go on a date with you. I realize that we’ve only seen each other a few times, but I’ve enjoyed every conversation I’ve had with you. I really admire the character I’ve seen in you, and I’d like to get to know you better. In an ideal world, we might have more opportunities to hang out casually as friends first, but my world is less than ideal on that front. Especially considering I’m about to leave town for six weeks for spring training. So I’d like to take you on a date so that we can continue getting to know each other.”

Danae takes an audible breath, and I’m amazed that anyone could be so lovely while simply breathing. Her eyes remain wide and round as she stares back at me.

“Are you sure I’m the type of woman you want to take on a date?” she asks. “I mean, you’re a famous athlete. I’m a teacher. A new single mom. We’re not exactly a headline-worthy match.”

I’m not sure if the question reveals her true hesitation about the invitation. Is it merely insecurity and doubt that I would genuinely be interested in her? Or is the question just a front to cover up hesitation about datingme? Although I don’t know the answer, I want to makemyinterest crystal clear.

“I’m very sure that I want to take you on a date,” I affirm. “But I know that you’ve had a lot of upheaval in your life recently. I’ll totally understand if you don’t think this is the right time to start dating since you’re figuring out life with Jason. And I’ll understand if the complicated nature of my life as an athlete isn’t appealing to you,” I say before pausing to draw a deep breath. My gaze on Danae is intense when I add, “But I’m absolutely positive that I’d like to take you out,to be intentional about getting to know you. If that’s something you’d like as well.”

I give her a warm, close-lipped smile, trying to communicate both eagerness and patience in my facial expression. Danae purses her lips, and she clenches her fists as though short-circuiting the urge to pick at her fingernails again.

“Can I . . . have some time to think about this?” Danae finally asks. “And talk with Jason about how he might feel?”

“Yes! Of course,” I quickly answer.If she’s thinking about needing to ask Jason how he feels, that has to mean it’s not an immediate no.My heart beats a little faster at the thought. “Take as much time as you need.”

“When do you leave for your training?” Danae asks.

“Not until mid-February,” I say. “Plenty of time. Don’t feel rushed to make a decision.”

Danae still looks stunned as she slowly nods. Her eyes drop.

“But Danae?” I say, and she looks back up at me. “Me telling you not to rush doesn't mean I consider a date with you just some insignificant possibility. I’d take you to dinner tomorrow if you said yes. I’m serious about this.”

A flush shades her cheeks, and she wedges her hands under her legs. “I’m sorry I’m being so awkward,” she says. “This has all caught me completely off guard. Being asked out by a professional athlete wasn’t on my bingo card for the new year.”

I throw my head back in a laugh, and I’m pleased to see a genuine smile crinkling the corners of Danae’s eyes when I look back to her. “I didn’t exactly see this coming either. I thought it would be another run-of-the-mill Camp Wizard with kids getting dropped off by case workers or foster parents. I never expected someone like you to walk through the door.”

Her cheeks blush again, and it’s a deliciously addictive sight. I stand up to leave, not wanting to linger past her comfort level. “You have my number, so call me when you’re ready to say yes, or shoot me a text to let me down gently,” I tease.

Danae laughs in response. I think she surprises herself when she reaches over to playfully shove my arm. “I’ll just send you a mysterious ‘We need to talk’ text either way. Make you sweat a little bit.”

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