That isn’t eight minutes; it’s three.
She’s gone for one night and I’ve fucked it up.
Not wanting to waste the meal she’s put time and effort into, I grab a knife and fork and sit at the counter with good intentions.
I attempt to mix the curry into the rice, but it only gets drier as it soaks up any liquid that was left. It ends up looking likesome weird curry-cake thing. Its only redeeming factor is the smell, but I’m aware that another minute and that would have also taken a turn.
I poke at it, hoping that once it’s cooled a little, it might be edible.
Risking it, I lift a lump to my mouth and attempt to eat it.
It’s like eating a ball of glue. Tasty glue, but still glue.
I have a few more mouthfuls but happily give up when my cell vibrates in my pocket.
Expecting it to be one of the guys, I’m surprised to see Freya’s name staring back at me. And not just that, she’s sent me a picture.
I’m fully anticipating a dog picture, so when I open it and find something else, I damn near fall off my stool.
“Holy shit.”
I blink in disbelief as I stare at an image of her all dressed up and ready for her big night. The image moves up a little as bouncing dots start below it.
Whirlwind: Is this too much?
Whirlwind: I feel naked.
Whirlwind: It’s too much, isn’t it?
Whirlwind: I’m going to change. Jeans and a T-shirt?
“Jesus,” I mutter. I’ve only ever listened to her overthink. I’ve never seen it before. It takes it to a whole new level.
Cole: You look beautiful.
My message shows as read immediately, but she doesn’t start typing.
Cole: You’d better not be getting changed.
“Shit,” I hiss.
I wait as patiently as I can for her to reply. It’s got to be almost two minutes later when the dots start bouncing again.
I stare at them, willing her message to come through faster.
Is she writing a fucking essay?
Finally, it appears, and once again, it isn’t what I was expecting.
Whirlwind: I’m so sorry, I thought I sent that to Casey.
“Well then,” I mutter, rejection burning through me.
Cole: Well, I meant what I said. You look beautiful. Please don’t change into jeans and a tee. You’ll regret it.
I hit send and then scroll up and tap on her selfie.
Her hair is down and straight, hanging around her shoulders like a curtain. She’s wearing more makeup than I’m used to, but it’s still light, showing off the freckles that litter her nose and cheeks, but making her eyes pop. Her lips are full and rosy. And then the dress…it’s light blue with a floral pattern all over it, and it’s fitted. Hell, it’s not just fitted; it’s like a second skin, leaving it impossible not to notice just how incredible her body is.
