“I owe you big time for your help, Angelo. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”
“I didn’t do you a favor to have you in my debt. Dinner is payment enough.”
For a second, I think she’s going to hug me, but she backs away instead. Maybe she feels what I do. An intense connection that’s there and undeniable, but there are so many complications in our past, it stops us from acting.
We’re in a constant state of immobility.
Trapped by the memories of someone who’s no longer here.
9
Tilly
Roger’s sitting on my bed, typing frantically on his phone as I go through every item of clothing in my closet. “Stop worrying so much.”
That’s easy for him to say. He’s a serial dater, and everything in his closet is spot-on.
“You’re not helping.” I push all the dresses to one side of the closet and realize everything I own is dressy.
“Wear the black dress.”
“Which one?” I own ten black dresses because a girl can never have too many.
“The tight sweater dress with the sweetheart neckline.”
“But that’s…”
He cuts me off. “It’s slutty yet sexy. Not too over the top. The girls will be visible but not on full display. If the man’s ready to move on, that number will do the trick.”
I lift the dress he’s talking about off the rack and stare at it. “It’s not really cold-weather friendly, Roger.”
“Stop being so practical all the time, Til. Wear a warm coat, and you’ll be fine. It’s not like you’re walking to the restaurant.” He laughs, finally tossing his phone to the side when I step out of the closet holding the dress in my hand. “Where are you going anyway?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say.” I hold the dress against my body and stare at Roger, looking for more of his help. “Hair up or down?”
I usually don’t need his input when getting dressed, but I haven’t been out with a man in so long, I’m not sure exactly what to do. I feel like a teenager getting ready for a first date without a single fucking clue in life.
“Up. Your neckline is too beautiful to hide, and it’ll show off your rack better.”
“Roger, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re fond of my breasts.”
Roger stands, taking the sweater dress from my hands and grabbing my black push-up bra from the back of my door. “I can still appreciate the female body even if it’s not my cup of tea. Wear this and the red stilettos. You’ll be a knockout, kid.”
I frown, imagining myself all dressed-up and way overdone. “It’s not too much?”
“You can never overdress, Til.” Roger grabs my shoulders and stares at me. “You like this guy?”
“I think so.”
“Stop lying. You wouldn’t be going through all this agony over an outfit if you didn’t feel something for him.”
“Fine,” I groan. “I like him.”
“Go shower. Shave your legs.”
I gawk at him with my mouth hanging open.
“It’s best to be prepared. You never know where the night’s going to take you.”
