And my phone buzzed.
My One and Only:I can’t stop thinking about finally getting yo fine ass to dinner. You ready for me, Angel?
I bit my lip, smiling like a fool.
Me:The question is… are YOU ready for ME?
My One and Only:Been ready since you put ya hands on me. I’ll handle everything. Just get fly and let me handle the rest.
I snapped a picture of my bracelet.
Me:Don’t you think you’ve done enough?
My One and Only:I see some thigh meat. Where you at? And I ain’t done half of what I got planned.
I rolled my eyes, but the grin wasn’t going anywhere.
Me:Dinner with my friends. Problem?
My One and Only:It bet not be that nigga Josh Higgins.
I laughed out loud.
Me:Josh is not important. But you knew that with your stalking ass. Are you jealous of Josh?
My One and Only:Fuck that nigga. Enjoy yourself, baby. I won’t keep you.
“Oh, she's smiling at her phone,” Tessa singsonged. “What he say?”
“None of your business,” I said, but the grin was glued to my face, and they all knew better.
Winnie raised her glass. “To Halo finally letting somebody catch her.”
“Don’t start,” I warned, but I was still smiling.
Because that's exactly what I was about to do. And I was done pretending I didn't want it to.
Dinner
Langston arrived at exactly seven, and I was still second-guessing everything about this outfit.
The hot pink dress clung to my hips and ass. High neck, sleeveless side boob poking, hitting mid-thigh with enough stretch to move but enough structure to hold everything in place. The fabric was thick enough to smooth lines but thin enough to show I wasn’t wearing much underneath. Because I wasn’t. The dress didn’t allow for it.
I’d paired it with black satin slingbacks that made my legs look longer than they actually were, and I’d thrown on a long fuchsia coat because January in Silverrun was no joke. My hair was bone straight, parted down the middle, falling past my shoulders. Makeup was simple but sexy—glossy lips, a subtle smoky eye, and highlighter that caught the light.
I knew I looked good. But standing in front of my mirror, I still felt nervous as hell. This was my first date. A real one. Not a link-up. Not a situationship. Not some half-assed attempt like Josh. This was a man who’d spent the last month making it clear he wanted me—really wanted me—in ways I wasn’t used to being wanted. What if we didn't hit it off?
My phone buzzed.
My One and Only:Your ride is out front, Halima.
My smile was so wide and bright that I could light the whole city up. I loved it when he said my name. I grabbed my Valentino clutch, took one last look in the mirror, spritzed a little more Miutine by Mui Mui on, and headed out.
Langston stood by a black SUV, looking professional as always in a black suit. When he saw me, he smiled. It was warm, genuine. I’d say that by now, Langston and I were friends.
“Halo,” he greeted, opening the door. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Langston.”
