Taking Chances

I smoothed down my dark green dress one more time as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was cooperating, waving and curling nicely down my back. I didn’t completely screw up my makeup, and my eyes actually looked pretty good. Not as good as they did when Jeff was in charge, but they’d suffice.

“Bailey?” Zayn’s voice called from the other room. “Are you ready yet?”

“Yeah,” I called back, blushing as I stuffed all my makeup crap back into the small black bag. “One second!”

When I stepped into the living room a minute later, I actually stopped in my tracks and struggled not to gasp.

Zayn had gone all-out, clad in a black suit, a light gray button-down underneath. His shoes were shined, and his hair was styled absolutely perfectly.

But he didn’t seem to notice that he completely outshined me as his eyes raked over my body. “Wow,” he said finally, breaking through the thick, slightly awkward silence, “you look gorgeous.”

I flushed deep pink and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Thanks. You look way better, though.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” He came over and pecked me quickly on the lips. “Come on. If we don’t leave now, then I don’t think we ever will.”

Laughing a little, I entwined my hand with his, and soon, we were out the door.

When we got to the fancy restaurant, it only took about thirty seconds for us to get seated, since Zayn had called ahead to make a reservation. And, much to our relief, we were seated in a private corner of the dining room, where paparazzi wouldn’t be able to have a field day with taking our pictures.

Once we were seated, I opened the menu and scanned it. “Damn,” I mumbled, “everything’s so expensive.”

“Don’t even look at the price,” he warned me. “Knowing you, you’ll only drink water.”

“I might,” I agreed quietly, cringing at the price of lobster.

I felt his eyes on me and looked up to find him glaring at me, one eyebrow raised.

“Alright, alright,” I allowed, sighing. “But if I put you in the poor house from this meal, it’s totally not my fault. Because I tried to suggest seeing Batman.”

He let out a laugh that was probably a little too loud for the nearly-silent restaurant. “You’re not going to put me in the poor house. Don’t worry about it.”

Finally, I decided on some chicken and vegetable dish and put my menu back down on the table, pushing it away as if it was a bomb about to explode.

Zayn shook his head and grinned. “You’re insane.”

“That’s why you love me,” I responded cheekily.

“One of the reasons,” he corrected me with a smile.

Just then, the waiter came over and poured us both some wine. “Can I take your orders?” he asked.

We told him quickly, and soon, he rushed off into the other room.

“I guess they don’t card here,” I mumbled in a confused voice.

“Bailey, honey,” Zayn started with an amused tone, “you’re legal here, remember? The drinking age is eighteen.”

My face exploded in a blush, and I rushed to cover it with my hand. “Right. Sorry.”

He shook his head, laughing softly, and took a sip of his wine. I wanted to do the same, but there was a thought nagging in the back of my mind that it was wrong because I was underage. Even if I wasn’t really.

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to,” Zayn informed me comfortingly. “But, if you’ll remember, you did drink beer at the club.”

“And that worked out well for me?” I snapped back with raised eyebrows.

“It worked out well for me,” he smirked.

If we weren’t in such a fancy restaurant, I would have picked up my spoon and thrown it at him. But as it was, I settled for kicking his shin under the table.

He let out a sharp breath, trying to vent some of his pain without shouting through the near dead silence.

I grinned at him innocently just as our food came.

We ate mostly in silence, just chatting here and there about how Zayn’s recording was going. “What about your recording? Isn’t that supposed to start soon?” he questioned.

I swallowed the bite of chicken in my mouth. “Yeah, I meet with the songwriters next week, the day after I move into the new place. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to write about, though. I don’t have a lot of interesting life experiences.”

“They’ll pull something out of you that you didn’t know was there,” he assured me. “And you’re much more exciting than you give yourself credit for.”

“If you say so,” I sighed, taking a sip of the water in front of me.

Soon, the plates were taken away, and Zayn put in for an order of chocolate cake that I didn’t want.

“I can’t fit anything else into my stomach,” I told him warningly. “Seriously. So I’m not eating that, unless you want me to puke on you.”

“Just one bite,” he begged, widening his eyes innocently. “Just one. I swear, you won’t regret it.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you, too.”

The cake got set down on the table, and suddenly, it made sense why Zayn ordered it. Because it looked freaking delicious.

“Told you,” Zayn chuckled, taking in the look on my face.

“Shut up,” I snapped at him. “Where’s a fork?”

“Hold on one second.” His tone caught my attention, so I sat back in my chair and stared at him. “I got something for you,” he elaborated. “And I want it to hold your attention before it gets completely sucked up by the cake.”

Hm. He knew me much too well. “What do you mean that you got me something?” I asked worriedly. “Because you just got me a necklace. Like, two weeks ago.”

“It’s not a necklace,” he promised. “Just put out your hand and close your eyes.”

“You’re cheesy as hell. You know that, right?”

“Just do it, Bailey.”

I let out a loud, dramatic sigh before closing my eyes and throwing out my arm. “There. Happy?” I asked an a fake-irritated tone.

But he didn’t answer. Instead, something cold and small dropped into my hand. “You can open your eyes now.”

And in my palm, there was a ring. A white gold ring with a small, round-cut diamond on the top.

“Zayn…” I trailed off, my stomach seizing and my face turning bright red, “what the fuck is this?”

He let out a burst of anxious laughter before gesturing at me to keep it down. “Shhh! We’re in a public place.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks burn even further, quickly followed by my ears. “But seriously. What is this?”

“It’s a ring,” he said.

“I can see that, moron,” I responded. My heart was nearly beating out of my chest, and I was almost positive that I was going to vomit up all the food I’d just eaten. “Why did you get me a ring? Because now, I’m definitely going to put you in the poor house. A necklace, some expensive dinner, and now a ring? Are you trying to lose so much money that you get evicted from your apartment and have to move in with Rebecca and me?”

He let out a small snort. “Actually, that’s not such a bad idea.”

“Zayn!” I whined. I couldn’t even look at the ring. Because it really could only mean one thing, right? And I wasn’t ready for that. Not at all. I still felt like a kid. There was no way I could get engaged.

“Alright, alright. You look like your brain’s going to explode. It’s not an engagement ring. It’s just a ring that I got for you as a kind of…going away present. Look on the inside.”

I turned to the inside of the ring and saw a few symbols engraved. “That’s so pretty,” I breathed, running my finger along them. “What does it mean?”

“Always,” he admitted bashfully. “I was trying to be romantic, but I didn’t know what to put, so I stole the thing from Mockingjay, what Peeta says to Katniss when she tells him to stay with her, when he was about to turn psycho again.”

I chuckled, smiling at him. “It’s perfect,” I told him honestly as I slipped it only the ring finger of my right hand. It glistened, turning different colors in the light. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” he told me, looking visibly calmer. “You can eat the cake now, if you want.”

“Why don’t we take it to go?” I suggested, getting to my feet and throwing my jacket over my shoulders.

He looked up at me, confused, before nodding. “Sure, if you want.”

“Thanks,” I responded. “I’ll wait in the car.”

And with that, I walked out of the restaurant, gnawing on my lip as I debated my sudden decision.