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But it was just me, right? I could make do with this. Plenty of people did.
Tears pricked at my eyes. This wasn’t the life I wanted, but I was starting to wonder if I actually had a choice.
20
Birdie
Confession: I’ve never had this many inappropriate thoughts about a man in my life.
“I’ve told you that you can stay here as long as you like,” Mara reminded me as she handed me lipstick for my not-date with Cohen. We were in the bathroom as I tried to get ready and not panic at the same time.
I took the tube and examined the shade of pink. “Is this not too young? I don’t want him to think I’m a child.”
“It’s fun,” Mara said. “And you’re going on a date, not a business meeting.”
With a shrug, I began spreading the makeup on my lips, then reached for a tissue to blot it off. “I know you said I could stay, but I don’t want to impose. Wasn’t that the point of buying your own home anyway? That you could live on your own, by your own rules?”
“I mean, there was some stuff about building equity in there, but also, you’re like a sister to me. More than my own flesh and blood. If that place is half as bad as you’re trying to make it out not to be, then I don’t want you living there.”
“It really wasn’t that bad—” I began.
“’Not that bad’ and ‘good’ are two different things,” she quipped.
I let out a sigh and handed her lipstick back. “I don’t like feeling like an imposition.”
She shook her head. “If you keep doing my dishes, you can live here forever.”
I giggled. “Now that’s a rent payment I can afford.”
“Exactly. Now look at me.”
I turned toward her, squaring my shoulders. I’d decided to wear the dress he bought me that first night, especially since I wouldn’t run in to anyone I knew. Maybe just to see him smile. Maybe to show him I wasn’t always a complete mess who went to bars in skimpy dresses and talked to birds.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” she said with a small smile. “And whatever happens on this not-date, I want you to enjoy it.” She cupped my cheek with her hand. “You are the very best friend I’ve ever had, and you deserve the best.”
My eyes stung at the emotion in her voice. Mara always knew the right words to say to me. With the knowledge that, no matter what, she was in my corner, I felt more confident than I had all day.
We left the bathroom, and I gave Mara a wave before picking up my purse and going to my car. Cohen had texted me the address of a restaurant in Brentwood I’d never been to before. Most people from Emerson stayed on their side of town unless there was a new client or a large sum of money involved.
On the way there, I listened to one of my favorite podcasters since the breakup. Sure, it was sappy self-help stuff, but how do you think I got over eighteen years of living with my parents? I constantly tried to learn better ways to cope and connect, neither of which my parents taught me. My self-help podcasts annoyed Dax though—he would rather listen to indie artists or NPR.
I had terrible taste in men. I could see that now. Would my judgement be clearer with Cohen?
Part of me wondered if I should just turn around now. If getting to know another man would even be worth it. But Mara’s voice telling me I deserved to be loved played in the back of my mind until I arrived at the restaurant and parked outside.
As I walked to the front door with the big sign saying View House, Cohen stepped outside, his smile just as attractive as the outfit he wore. His eyes scanned my body, making my cheeks heat, and he said, “You are a vision in that dress.”
I sheepishly looked toward the ground and back to him. “If you compliment me too much, you’re going to cross the line into date territory.”
He chuckled. “Is that in the Academy handbook as well?”
“Maybe we should ask the headmaster,” I teased.
“Hard pass.” Opening the door, he stepped back to let me in, and I was immediately chilled by the air conditioning. The host asked us if we were ready to be seated, but I turned to Cohen. “Is it okay if we sit outside?” Dax never wanted to be around the flies or even a hint of humidity or sunlight. He preferred to be indoors, to say the least.
“Of course,” he said, and the host led us to a patio table on an expansive wooden deck. As I sat down and looked over the railing, I realized where the restaurant had gotten its name. We were high enough up that we could see the city and the greenery of its trees splayed before us. I could even see a line of ocean blending with the sky.
“It’s beautiful out here,” I said.