Holy hell! You weren’t lying.
Told you. Please help me.
James makes his way over to my bed, his eyes surveying the pile of clothing scattered across it. I sit down on the edge, taking one of my throw pillows and squeezing it tightly against my chest.
As he goes through the clothing, he places them back on the hangers, returning them to the closet.
When everything is back in order, he hands me a cream sweater.
This. It looks great on you, and it dips just low enough to look feminine without showing too much or appearing like you’re trying too hard.
Thank you, James.
I stand up, turning the front of my body away from him, and quickly change. Once I have it on, I step over to the mirror and take a real look at myself. James is right. It looks perfect.
Now, finish your makeup and hair so I can see the finished product before I leave.
Lifting my hand to my forehead, I give him a salute, then skip off to the bathroom, a little more excited as a warming sense of calm washes over me. James to the rescue.
Standing in front of my mirror, I decide to keep my makeup light today. More of a hint of having it on than anything. A neutral eyeshadow, a little blush and mascara, topped off with a faint shimmer of gloss.
I glance over at my perfume and decide to just spritz a little of it—my natural scent of mint and green tea.
When I’m done, I step back into the bedroom, and James holds his finger up, spinning it, telling me to turn around. He just stares at me, his arms folded across his chest before finally nodding in approval.
He steps up to me, placing his hands on my shoulders, kissing me softly on my forehead before stepping back and signing.
You look great. Just calm down. You’ve got this.
You think so?I ask.
Definitely. Just be yourself. It’s already evident he likes you.
I can’t help but smile, feeling the first flicker of hope that this is going to be great. That nothing is going to ruin tonight.
No crying. Don’t want to mess up that beautiful face.Text me when you get there. If he turns out to be a serial killer, I want credit for being right.
The snort comes out before I can stop it.
He’s not a serial killer.
Every omega says that right before getting murdered.
My hands fly out, smacking his arm playfully, as we both laugh. When the humor settles, the nerves kick in a bit.
Have a great time. Text me when you get there though and when you get home.
I promise.
Okay, well I’m going to get out of here. I’ll see myself out.
James gives me a wink, and leaves. Once again I’m all alone, vulnerable to let my imagination run wild.
I turn back around, taking another look at myself in the mirror now that I’m completely ready. My hair falls soft around my face, my eyes bright despite the fear hiding behind them. I get my phone and purse from the nightstand and head downstairs. James brought me coffee, and I plan to drink it.
Sitting down on the couch, I open my phone and decide to roll some dice in Monopoly Go. I’m one gold sticker away fromcompleting the whole sticker board, and I need some shovels to dig to get the wild card.
Of course, the sticker is a dud. A duplicate of what I already have.
