Page 54 of The Lucky One
“She’s a professional! She wouldn’t do that.”
“She hates my guts, Little German,” Jon reminded me, his circles coming to a stop.
“She doesn’t hate you.” The water was chillier than expected but I took the plunge anyway. “I was wondering if you wanted to go on a double date with Danielle and Timo,” I said, giving him my puppy face.
His brow furrowed. “Why did you never tell me you don’t like cheese?”
I dropped the puppy eyes. “Wow, that wasn’t a smooth way to change the subject, Jon.”
“No, I meant...” He sighed and lifted himself up, prompting me to sit up as well. “Do you realize we’ve never been on a proper date? And I don’t mean getting takeout in the car. I mean a real date, where I pick you up, we go for dinner, I get you flowers and shit.”
I took in a breath. Dating in Germany wasn’t exactly like in romance movies. Most relationships I knew of started at school or parties. Maybe people went to the cinema. The idea of going to a fancy dinner was rare for people our age. I was surprised that Jon of all people had brought it up. “Do you want to take me out on a date like that?” I asked.
“I... fuck, I don’t know.” He leaned in, grabbed my hand and thumbed little circles on the back of it. “I want to make this right. Be a good boyfriend, give you all those experiences to write down. So you can read them in a few years with a smile on your face and not feel like you missed out because you chose to be with me.”
I climbed onto his lap and put my hand on his cheek. Jon’s vulnerable side wasn’t something I was used to, but I liked it. “You are a good boyfriend, Jon. I like doing anything with you. I don’t need fancy dates and flowers to remember how much I lo—enjoy spending time with you.”
He smiled briefly but his lips twitched down again. My return to Germany loomed large in my mind—but I wanted to let him bring up that topic at his own pace.
Instead, Jon reached over to his phone. “When do you need to be back at Gena’s?” he asked, typing something I couldn’t see.
“Um, my curfew is eleven. Why?”
“Okay, we’ve got over two hours. Let’s go.” He pulled me off his lap and went to his closet.
“What are you doing?” I asked, baffled.
“Getting dressed. I’m taking you on a Jon Denson kind of date.”
“What rhymes with torture?” I asked, pen poised over my little black book.
“Torture?” Jon asked, eyes fixed on the road.
“Oh, I got it: putting me in the corner.”
He laughed. “What are you writing there?”
“A poem about how you torture me by keeping me in the dark,” I joked. We had dropped off Lauren at her party, though not before Jon’s lengthy no-alcohol-or-drugs speech, which she shrugged off in annoyance. It was cute though. Now we’d been driving for twenty minutes, and I was still clueless about our destination.
“I’m telling you, after tonight you’ll have more exciting things to write about.”
I groaned with anticipation, which only made him laugh harder.
“We’re almost there, Little German.”
I peeked out the window but it was too dark to make out where we were. Jon parked on a side road and reached behind him. “Put this over your eyes.” His smile was even broader now.
“A tie. Seriously?”
“Yep.” He shrugged. “Or are you scared?”
I grabbed it. “Bring it on, Denson!” This was so much better than a regular dinner date—this was exciting and special and made me love him even more.
He guided me out of the car, following right behind to make sure I wouldn’t trip. “Stop here,” he whispered in my ear, and I heard a heavy metal door opening. “Okay, slow steps, we’re approaching the stairs.”
He led me up. The temperature immediately rose, and my heartbeat picked up as we got closer and closer to whatever surprise Jon had planned for me. It smelled a bit musty in here, like they didn’t do Durchlüften—airing out the house. Suddenly the dark behind my eyelids turned orange—we must’ve stepped into a bright room.
“Are you ready?” Jon breathed, and my skin shivered.