I don’t know what to say, so I offer a noncommittalppffftttt.
This pathetic attempt at brushing her off is all she needs. “Holy shit, youlikelike him.”
All I can do is blink at her rapidly as my heart answers with a single resoundingyes.
“Ash?” she says, softer this time. So as not to spook the girl who stopped talking because she felt too many things and thoughtshe was going to explode. I put my hand on my knee to stop it from bouncing, but she continues. “Do you want tolovehim?”
“No. I don’t,” I say, firm. I desperately do not want to love him. And that is the truth. Sure, I can admit I like Xander. But hearing her use the L word out loud?
I am biologically programmed to reject it.
Am I willing to accept this crush? A stupid hormonal thing? Yes. But love? Impossible.
“I haven’t seen you this distracted since, well,” she stops midthought like she’s trying to remember, and I send a prayer up that she has no fucking clue. To no avail. “Since you came home from that one night with Xander,” she says.
Her eyes are pinned on mine like she’s daring me to argue with facts. And so I take that dare.
“Em, you told me that I didn’t have to do anything with these feelings,” I say, trying to remind her that she’s known me for fifteen years and that track record should count for something. “Once the sleep study wraps up, this will all fizzle out to nothing.”
She opens her mouth to argue and I shake my head at her, cutting her off. “Because feelings are always fleeting.” And then I stare at her and wait for what she always does. Moves on from the conversation.
And just like that, Em lets out a heavy sigh. “You used waterproof eyeliner,” she says, groaning. “Now close your eyes while I scrub a layer of skin off to fix this, Gene Simmons.” I win. Although, it doesn’t feel like a victory.
“Am I supposed to take offense to that? The dude spits blood, breathes fire, and tongues thin air while playing the bass for KISS, and has enough energy to slay groupies into the thousands? Thank you,” I say, taking it as a compliment, and do as I’m told, grateful for the change in topic.
“You’re welcome,” Em says, and I can feel a fluffy makeup brush circling the corner of my eyelids. There are butterflies in my stomach as Em’s words wash over me. The mere suggestion that I want anything to do with loving Xander puts me on edge.
“We’ll finish with Dragon Girl,” Em says, reaching for my favorite red lip pencil from NARS.
I do that thing where you partially open your mouth in a semi-relaxed fashion that is anything but relaxed, all so Em can draw on my lips.
I watch as Em steps back and examines her work. Her eyes roam my entire face before breaking out into a wide grin. “Done.” The woman works quickly.
I look at myself in the mirror. I could cry. I won’t, because I will not ruin Em’s art, but not only did she manage to one-up Taylor Swift’s winged eyeliner look, she also added a smoky eye and outlined my lips, and still somehow managed to not make me look like a clown.
“I look so fucking hot,” I say, turning to Em, who’s staring at her handiwork. “Thank you.”
“That’s all you, Ash,” Em says, as she starts putting my brushes away. “When will you learn that the right onesneverwalk away?” Em squeezes my arm.
“Not true, but thanks for the pep talk,” I say palming off her compliment. She’s my best friend. She’s supposed to say shit like that. “And thanks for being there. Always.”
“Always.”
At exactly elevenAM, my intercom buzzes. Shit. Xander’s here.
I let him up and study myself in the mirror one last time. Em did good. I’m wearing the blood-orange puffed-sleeve deepV neck, exposed back, cut above the knees dress Em bought for me. She did real fucking good.
I grab my clutch and head to the door. I open it just as Xander raises his hand to knock.
His hand is frozen midair while he takes in the sight of me. I don’t care because I’m staring at him.
He’s wearing a suit. It’s a three-piece light-blue linen complete with white shirt. His hair is styled back into a coif and perhaps for the first time in his entire life, his curls are staying put. It’s like they rallied together and decided they were going to play as a team today. And they’re winning. All I can think is, why isn’t there a “men wearing suits” category on Porn Hub?
Damn.Am I breathless?
It’s only then that I realize I’ve got my hand on my own heart like a lovestruck teenager at a One Direction concert.Get it together, Ash.
We finally make eye contact.
