Page 17 of If You Were Mine (After We Fall 3)
“Why not?”
“It’s boring.”
“It’s comfortable,” I countered, reaching into my closet to pull it out.
“It’s not sexy.”
Jaime and Margot were always trying to convince me to dress a little sexier, or at least more stylishly, but I was never sure I could pull it off. “I don’t need to look sexy, I just have to look not-single.”
She sighed loudly.
“Never mind, I’ll figure it out,” I said as I stuck it back in the closet.
“Are you nervous?”
“Yes. I mean, Theo’s nice enough, and maybe we’ll have a good time, but I’m a little worried about the whole fooling people into thinking he’s my boyfriend thing. I’m not the actress in the family. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
Jaime laughed. “I know. I was thinking earlier that in the twenty years I’ve known you, I think this is the craziest thing you’ve ever done.”
That actually made me smile.
* * *
Friday arrived, and I still didn’t know what to wear.
After school that day, I stood in front of my closet again and debated trying to look a little sexy, but bold lips and a bold outfit seemed like too much, and I was nervous enough without adding to it with an uncomfortably tight or low-cut dress. One thing at a time—the lips would be my statement tonight.
I decided to ignore Jaime’s advice and wear the Wedding Dress. Maybe it was a little plain, but it looked good on me. I slipped the soft, loose dress over my head, and since it was cold outside, paired it with black tights and low-heeled booties. Cute, right? Pleased with my choices, I applied the red lipstick and assessed myself in the mirror. “On a scale of one to ten, you are at least an eight and a half,” I told myself. “You might not be a bombshell, but you are definitely a bullet, possibly even a small grenade.”
Blowing myself a little air kiss in the glass, I bounced down the stairs and out the door.
* * *
I attended the six P.M. ceremony by myself, since I couldn’t afford to rent Theo for more than a few hours. After it was over, at least five people asked my where my mystery man was, their expressions ranging from curious to skeptical. “He couldn’t get off work early enough to make the ceremony,” I said, delighted with how easily the lie rolled off my tongue. The lipstick was working! My ears barely even tingled. “He’ll be at the reception, though.”
Back at home, I had only about fifteen minutes before Theo was scheduled to pick me up, and I spent it staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, applying another coat of Audacious, and practicing Giselle’s selfie pout. After a few tries, I thought I had it down.
When the doorbell rang, butterflies took flight in my belly, which annoyed me. This wasn’t a date—it was a business transaction, just like Theo said.
But just in case the second coat of blaring red lipstick was too much, I blotted some off.
He rang the bell again, and I tossed the kiss-marked tissue in the trash can. “Coming, coming!” I yelled as I rushed to the door. Then I pulled it open, and my jaw dropped.
Theo looked gorgeous. Gorgeous. My heart beat a little faster as I took him in, head to heel. He wore a dark suit with a white shirt and deep red tie. His dark hair was neatly combed, his scruff groomed, his shoes polished. And he was so tall—the top of my head barely reached his chin, even with shoes on. I’d have to stand on tiptoe to kiss him.
As soon as I thought it, I shoved the image out of my head. He’s not going to kiss you, dummy.
“Come on in,” I said, stepping back so he could get out of the cold. He wasn’t even wearing a coat. “I’m just about ready.”
“OK. No rush. I’m a few minutes early, anyway.” He entered the living room and looked around as I shut the door. “This is nice.”
“Thanks. It needs work, but I love it.”
“What’s this style of architecture called again?”
“It’s a Craftsman-style bungalow. At least, that’s what the agent called it when she was trying to sell me on the place.”
“How long have you lived here?” He admired my Christmas tree in the front window before peering into the dining room. I still didn’t have a table and chairs in there.
