Page 9 of Curves of Steel

I know. :)Bea replies.Have fun, okay? You deserve it. I’m rooting for you. <3

God, I’m lucky to have a friend like her. She sees the best in me — believes the best about me and for me — whether I deserve it or not.

I wonder if Dan the Curve Connection Man, as I’ve taken to calling him, will be able to offer me the same kind of understanding.

Hell, I wonder ifanyman can, or would want to with a hot mess like me.

I love Bea so damn much, but figure that she has an optimistic blind spot about me. A new guy with one eye fixed on figuring out his future? He might not be so forgiving.

There’s only one way to find out.

Running nervous palms over my jeans one last time, I take a deep breath, grab my bag and picnic blanket, and force myself to step from the car.

This is good for you, I tell myself as I walk to the west entrance of the playground where I’d arranged to meet Dan.You’ve got this.Even if Dan’s a dud or the date’s a disaster, this is good practice.

Maybe if I repeat all that to myself enough, I’ll start to believe it.

Dan

Isee her coming from a mile away. With those dark curls hugging the creamy skin of her face like a halo, she’s impossible to miss.

Then she gets closer and I see how her hips move just right beneath her jeans, the way her down-filled vest hits her waist perfectly, the scarf around her neck just fucking adorable.

It’s official.

Michelle Sincero, retired figure skater, is even better in person than on television. Or in the app.

I’m thanking my lucky stars, and the unlucky ones too, as I wait for her where we arranged, watching her approach.

She doesn’t notice me for a couple of blocks. But when she does see me, she smiles, ducking her head, and blushes so damn prettily.

If I mess this up, I’ll regret it forever.

Good thing I’ve brought my A-game.

“Michelle?” I ask as she draws near even though there’s no way I could mistake her.

She nods, shy smile growing as the flush of her cheeks travels to the bit of her neck visible above her royal blue scarf. “You must be Dan.”

I extend the bouquet of wildflowers flowers I brought for her. “It’s truly my pleasure to meet you, Michelle.”

When she sees the flowers, her eyes turn to saucers and her goat falters.

My stomach clenches. Did I do something wrong? Are the flowers too much too soon?

But she recovers as quickly. The wrinkle on her brow smooths as she accepts the bundle.

“That’s so thoughtful of you,” she says, her voice as rich and sonorous as a bell. She lifts the flowers to her nose and inhales their scent. “Mmm, they’re beautiful. What shop sells these?”

I shake my head, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “No shop.”

Her dark eyebrows lift. “You . . . picked these?”

I nod, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets. “I have a whole field right outside my home. These are the last of the season, I’m pretty sure.”

“Well, they’re lovely. Thank you.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Is it weird that I picked you flowers?” I shrug. “I’ve been out of the dating game so long, I have no idea what the rules are.”

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