"What are you doing?" Jen says the words slowly, a look of utter confusion on her face.

I get it. It's not every day she finds me sprawled on my bedroom floor, heaps of clothes surrounding me, as I throw tops and dresses around.

"I have nothing to wear," I whine.

"Soph, you have a million outfits." She crosses her arms over her chest, leaning against the doorway.

"But not the right one!" I brandish the black, see-through bodystocking in my hand at her to illustrate my point.

"The right outfit for what?"

I look down, drop the piece of clothing to the ground, and wrap my arms around my knees. I mutter something indistinctive under my breath.

"What?" Jen asks, confused.

"Jaydenistakingmeonadate," I mumble quickly and way too quietly for her to hear.

"Again, what?"

"Jayden is taking me on a date!" I exclaim, throwing my arms into the air.

Jen's jaw drops. "What?"

I give her a sour look. "You heard me." She wouldn't be looking at me like that if she didn't.

"I heard you," she says. "But I can't have heard that right... Jayden Sennels is taking you on a date?"

I nod.

"And you said yes?"

I give her a grunt of affirmation.

"By your own free will?"

I throw the closest dress at her, and she giggles, holding up her palms. "Okay, but for real. How did that happen?"

I give her a quick recap of what has happened since Jayden showed up at our apartment last night, and her eyes widen exponentially when I mention our little outing today.

"You brought him to see Max?" she breathes.

"Yeah..." I don't know what else to say. Jen knows what a big deal that is. I don't tell her that it was a kind of payback for Jayden telling me about his past. Like our secrets are currency, and I was in the red.

I can't tell Jen. Both because Jayden's story is his, and I have no right to share it. But also, and probably more importantly, because she would see right through me.

I did promise to let Jayden know something about me, but there were a million other things I could do. Taking him to see Max was a completely voluntary decision.

"Anyway," I say, clearing my throat. "He picks me up at seven, and I have no idea what to wear. Please help me."

Jen smiles smugly. "Oh, how the tables have turned. I don't think you've ever asked for my help in this regard."

"Well, I've never needed it before," I hiss. "Literally, none of my outfits works."

Jen takes a step closer, inspecting the clothes on my floor with a critical eye, before she slowly lifts her gaze to mine, giving me an indulgent look as you might do with a sweet but slightly misguided child. "It's because you're going about it the wrong way. You can't wear black on your first date."

My eyes search the piles around me, noticing that black is the most prominent color. But so what? I like black. "Why not?"

She's sliding the doors open to my walk-in closet. "Because black is what you wear to look mysterious, and elusive, and sexy."

"But shouldn't I look sexy?"

Jen sighs, turning around with a slight shake of her head. "No, Soph. You're not trying to lure him to bed. You've already done that. Repeatedly. He knows how you look naked. He knows you're sexy. He's not taking you on a date because he thinks you look sexy."

"He's not?" At that, she just huffs a frustrated breath and turns back to my closet. "Then... why?"

"Because he likes you. Because he thinks you're sweet and interesting."

I lift an eyebrow at that, a little of my usual snark sneaking into my tone, "really? Sweet? Has he met me?"

I can hear Jen laughing somewhere inside my closet. "Okay, maybe not sweet. But definitely interesting. In a non-sexual way."

She continues her search while I slump down, leaning my back against my bed, her words hitting me right below my diaphragm.

Jayden thinks I'm interesting? In a way, that's separated from wanting to sleep with me?

How is that even possible?

"Ah," Jen says triumphantly. "Now, I know you haven't worn it in a long time..."

Her tone is defensive like she's already expecting me to reject it, and she appears slowly, the emerald green dress - that I have, in fact, not worn in forever - clutched in her grasp.

"Jen. No-"

She shrugs, cutting me off. "Unless you don't think it'll fit anymore."

I stand up, snatching the dress from her hands, ignoring the smug sparkle in her eyes. "It'll fit fine."

🏊‍♂️

Jen curls my hair for me and does my makeup. It's quite the reverse of roles, as I'm usually the one fixing her up before a night out, but dating is Jen's territory - not mine.

And when she's finished, and I stand to look at myself in the full body mirror, I must admit she's done some magic.

The dress reaches halfway down my thighs. The loose emerald material is pulled in around the waist, showing a little figure, and the v-cut dips low enough to hint a bit at cleavage. It has long, see-through sleeves, and despite this dress covering way more skin than I'm used to, I feel oddly exposed.

The makeup is also different. Less discreet than the coat I usually wear to work, but the colors are lighter, more... quiet almost.

Jen has managed to soften my, admittedly somewhat, hard edges.

I'm not dressed to impress because, apparently, according to Jen, I've already done that.

"You look beautiful, Soph," she whispers, standing behind me, her eyes roaming over my face. There's a hint of sadness in her voice, and I know why. Looking into this mirror, I see a different Sophie. A younger one. And I know Jen sees her too. She shakes her head, plastering a smile on her face. "Remember, tonight isn't about your body. It's about your heart. Your soul."

I swallow a lump in my throat. That's exactly what I'm scared of.

🏊‍♂️

Jayden is standing outside our apartment in a pair of black slacks and a dark blue button-down, and he looks so freaking handsome, I get dizzy for a second.

"Trouble," he breathes, a look of wonder on his face as he scans me from head to toe. "You look beautiful."

I couldn't stop it even if I wanted to, a smile spreading on my face. "Well, you clean up nice too."

He shakes his head with a slight laugh before putting his hand on the small of my back and guiding me down to the parking garage and into his car.

I'm good for about five minutes before I can't help it anymore. "Where are we going?"

Jayden doesn't answer, but the grin on his face tells me he heard just fine. I huff and cross my arms across my chest, watching Ann Arbor pass us by.

It's raining slightly, as is customary for this time of year, but there's something nice about it. Heavy skies lay like a blanket over the city, the water running through the streets, slowly washing away the last remnants of summer. Once the sky clears again, it's like the city will be reborn.

I'm lost in thoughts of rainy days, so I barely notice it when Jayden parks the car. I grab my bag and jacket from the floor of the car, getting ready to follow Jayden outside, but before I have the chance, my door is opened, and he stands there with a hand outstretched, an umbrella over his head.

"What are you doing?" I lift an eyebrow in question, staring at his hand like it's some vile creature.

He falters a little. "I'm helping you out of the car... You know, the whole gentleman thing."

I roll my eyes. "Well, drop it," I say, batting away his hand as I climb out of the truck myself. Okay, so it's a step higher than my car, but jeez, it's not like I don't have legs.

Jayden still hasn't stepped back, so we end up standing chest to chest, the umbrella covering both of us. I have to lean my neck back to look him in the eyes. "I'm not a damsel in distress, Jay. I don't need your gallantry. When have I ever given the impression that I'm not capable of opening my own car doors?"

He stares at me for a long second, his eyes searching mine. His are cast in shadow, dark and stormy against the turbulent sky. My breath catches in my throat, and the smirk tugging at his lips tells me he notices.

His hand comes up, one thumb caressing my bottom lip, leaving a trail of sparks behind. It drifts down my throat, over my pulse point hammering against the thin skin, before resting under my chin, using it to tip my head a tad farther back.

His head dips, lips hovering just above mine. "You really are trouble, aren't you?"

It's my time to feel smug. I reach up just a bit further, brushing my lips against his feather-light. "I guess you'll find out."

Then I tug myself into him and begin walking towards the restaurant. I even allow him to rest a possessive hand on the small of my back because he has the umbrella. Jen spent a lot of time on my hair, and it's really not worth ruining her work just because I can crawl out of a vehicle by myself.

When we reach the restaurant entrance, Jayden looks at me and then pointedly at the door handle, clearly having learned his lesson. I wink at him before I throw the door open and stroll inside.

I finally take a second to notice where we are.

It's a quaint little Italian restaurant. I haven't been here before, but despite the homey feel, it's definitely a classy place: no checkered tablecloths or kids' menus in sight. The low lighting and candles flickering on each table indicate that this is very much a date location. I must admit, I'm impressed.

Jayden gives his name to the hostess, who leads us to a table by the windows, leaving us two menus.

"Do you want to choose the wine?" Jayden asks as we're perusing the wine card.

I cock a brow. "Seeing how I'll be the one to drink most of it because you're driving, it seems appropriate."

He bites back a smile. "You always have a smart remark, don't you?"

"It's a gift," I say with a shrug.

He chuckles, and the deep, quiet sound sends shivers through me.

"So, did I choose right with the restaurant?" Jayden asks after we've ordered. "You know it's a little hard when I don't know what you like." His lips curve upwards teasingly.

I roll my eyes playfully because I like this. It's like we can never just have a normal conversation; it's always a push-and-pull sort of situation. But the lines are getting blurred, and it's no longer crystal clear who's doing the pushing and pulling. "Italian is good."

"So," Jayden prompts, looking at me expectantly. I raise an eyebrow in question, and he goes on, "what is your favorite food?"

I think it over, toying with the hem of my dress under the table. "Fried okra."

Jayden frowns a bit. "I don't think I've ever had that."

I don't tell him that I haven't had it in years, either.

"What about you?"

A smile lights up Jayden's face. "Tartlets with chicken."

It's my turn to be confused. "I've never heard of that. Is it good?"

He nods. "Yeah." Then his mouth twitches, turning downwards slightly, and a bit of melancholy seeps into his expression. "My dad used to make it for me growing up."

I can't imagine what it must have been like for him to lose his parents at such a young age. And I don't know how to alleviate some of his pain. Before I have a chance to do anything, our food arrives, and most of the conversation stops as we're both enjoying the heavenly pasta dishes.

Eventually, I lean back in my chair, regarding Jayden. Now that his whole story has had time to sink in, I'm curious. There's still so much I don't know, and I find it hard to repress the urge to ask. I take another deep sip of wine before clearing my throat.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Jayden lifts his head, and he seems a little caught off guard, looking at me with thoughtful eyes for a second.

"If I can ask you one, too," he finally answers, holding up a finger before he's even done speaking like he anticipates my knee-jerk reaction to drop the whole thing. "Nothing too deep, don't worry. But a question for a question."

I pause, considering it, though I know it's fair. And isn't this what we do now? Trade secrets like we are kids, and they are pokemon cards?

I nod, taking another sip before asking him. "I was wondering when your mother died..." I watch him closely, gauging if this is over the line, if it's too difficult to discuss like this on a date, but Jayden doesn't even flinch, just gesturing for me to go on. "Well, what happened to the rest of your family? Why didn't any of them take you in?"

Jayden smiles, but it's sad and a little bitter. "We don't have any other family."

I wasn't expecting that. How is that even possible? No grandparents, no aunts or uncles, no distant relatives? Like he can see the questions in my eyes, he goes on, "Our grandparents on our mom's side died before I turned four. I can't even remember them. They were old when they adopted my mom, you see, so they were both in their eighties by the time I was born. They died within a year of each other. And my mom was an only child."

"She was adopted?"

"Yeah, when she was two. Left outside of a firehouse as an infant. My grandparents couldn't have kids of their own, but they'd tried for so long that they were in their early fifties before they considered adoption."

I nod slowly, analyzing his expression. He seems a little sad to have lost them when he was so young, but also like he's accepted the circle of life. I'm almost too afraid to ask about his father's family, wondering if it'll bring back the resentful gleam from before.

The silence is heavy between us, my unasked question hanging in the air. Jayden sighs, fiddling with his napkin and avoiding my gaze. "My dad didn't really have much contact with his family. He was born in Romania, and when he left for the U.S and decided to marry an American, his parents weren't happy. They pretty much cut him off." He looks up at me, sorrow and spite battling in his eyes. "I only met them twice in my life. Shortly after I was born, and then at my dad's funeral. We never saw them after that."

I reach out, on instinct, placing my hand on top of his on the table. He doesn't seem mad that I asked, but I sense that he's done with the heavy stuff, so I change gear. "Is Sennels Romanian?"

When I look close enough, I can see a bit of his eastern European ancestry in the color of his skin and his dark hair.

He shakes his head, siping his own wine glass. "My grandfather was - or is, maybe, I don't know - anyways, he grew up in Denmark. But moved to Romania before my dad was born. Sennels is Danish."

It's not uncommon to meet people in the U.S whose ethnic pedigree looks more like a connect the dots puzzle than anything, but it's still interesting to hear about his background. As far as I know, my family has lived in America pretty much since the first European settlements.

"Now, Miss Brooks," Jayden says, his eyes lighting up. "My turn."

I avoid scowling, knowing I did agree to these terms. Drinking from my wine glass, I nod for him to go on.

"As far as I can tell, you didn't grow up in Michigan?"

I can tell he's only leading up to the question, so I just shake my head. "No."

"When did you move here?" It's his turn to be observant. I can feel his eyes boring into the side of my face as I look out the window.

"Three years ago." I keep it sweet and short.

"I don't think I dare ask from where. Right?" I can hear the smile in his voice now, and I glance at him again. He's leaning back in his chair, turning the wineglass in his hand, making the deep red liquid spin.

"Probably not," I confirm.

"And I'm not even going to think about asking why."

I crack a smile. "Wise choice."

It seems we have appeared at the real question. He sits up again, resting an elbow on the table, looking at me seriously. "But... Why here?"

I pause. Not because this is really a secret, more because I'd thought he would have figured that out by now. Isn't it obvious?

"Jen."

His eyes widen a little bit. "Jen?"

"She came out here for college," I go on, still on solid ground. Talking about Jen isn't really difficult.

"And you didn't?"

We're nearing dangerous territory, and I think Jayden senses that. Maybe in the slight way, my shoulders tense, so when I just shake my head, he steers the conversations back toward safer soil. "Why Jen?"

I shrug with a laugh. "She's family."

At this, Jayden just nods, like he'd expected that answer. "The things we do for our family."

I force a smile, taking another gulp of wine. "Yeah."

Once we've finished eating our dessert - Jayden convinced me to share, which was so disgustingly date-like that I almost refused out of sheer spite, but the warm look in his eyes won me over - I smile happily at Jayden.

I might be a little tipsy from the wine, but hopefully, the cup of coffee I just drank will soak up some of the alcohol, so I can convince Jayden to take advantage of me.

We exit the restaurant together, Jayden yet again holding up the umbrella since the rain hasn't let up yet. He escorts me to the passenger side, and I turn around to face him, blocking his access to the door so he doesn't get any dumb ideas like trying to open it for me.

I run my hands up his chest, feeling the muscles tense under his shirt. He takes an involuntary step closer to me, his breath ghosting the side of my neck. He smells like coffee and cologne, and chlorine. His free hand snakes around to my back, pressing me closer to him.

"So," I whisper, running my nose along his jawline, and I feel a shiver run through him. "My place or yours?"

Jayden smiles against my neck, where his mouth is currently driving me crazy. "I'm taking you home," he mumbles.

I arch my head to the side, giving him more access. "So your place then," I breathe, feeling a little lightheaded in a way that has nothing to do with wine.

It's probably for the best. Jen's home and I doubt we'd be very quiet.

I turn my head, searching for his mouth, having half a mind to mount him right here in the rainy parking lot. Just as our lips are about to collide, Jayden chuckles, moving an inch back.

An inch too far. I suppress a whine.

"No, Fie." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "I'm driving you back to your apartment."

"Why does that sound like an incomplete sentence?" I cross my arms, which is hard when he's standing this close. They end up wedged between us.

He's smiling, not looking particularly affected by my sudden annoyance. "Because I will do the gentlemanly thing and get you home safe before I go home myself."

I roll my eyes, opening my mouth to speak, but Jayden holds up a hand to silence me. "Yes, I know. Fuck gallantry. But this is non-negotiable." His eyes are stern, authoritarian in a way I haven't seen before, and for some reason that just makes me want him so much more.

"But you're not coming in with me?"

He cracks a smile. "Putting out on the first date? What do you think of me?"

"You've