“Especially since Kevin McAllister is an adult now… Shit, there’s no stopping that motherfucker.”
I laugh again. I can’t help it. And I’m okay with that.
Chapter Eleven
Jenny
Going out two days in one week, what am I? Someone with a social life? This is unsettling. But by the time I handed Kingston over to Joey and walked home, there was already a long, opaque garment bag and shoes hanging on my door. I thought it was weird that he took a picture of me standing next to the restaurant sign, but I guess it was used to measure my body.
I wash the day off me, trying not to get my hair wet. If it gets wet, then it’s a whole thing. I've got to dry it, curl it, and make it all cute. So, I’m doing a little dance under the shower, whatever I can to keep the splash back from happening. It’s only after I almost pull a muscle in my neck that I remember I have a shower cap I use for my hair dye.
Joey said he would pick me up at nine. Nine… at night. On a workday. Unreal. Truthfully, the late nights were one of the reasons I stopped going to the club. Once I’m home, I want to stay home. This effort should be rewarded with a fucking parade.
It takes me more time to fix my hair than my makeup. I’m actually pretty proud of myself. I only had to redo my eyeliner three times. Once I’ve finished transforming into a slightly upgraded version of myself, I finally put eyes on the dress.
Oh, he has got to be insane. There’s fucking straps everywhere. Does this thing come with instructions or a manual?
I’ve been getting dressed my whole life, and this is the first time I’ve needed a master's degree in engineering to do it. Fifteen minutes are spent trying to navigate this maze before I finally see the zipper on the side. Oh, I step in… got it.
And damn it all to hell if it wasn’t made exactly for my body. It hides all my little lumpy bumpy parts I’m not overly thrilled with and highlights my toned arms.
I look hot.
Correction: I am hot.
There’s a knock, and I’m trying to get my shoes on as I open the door. But unlike Elphaba, I can’t defy gravity, and I stumble face first into Joey’s chest.
Awesome. I couldn’t even pull off the sexy opening the door and ‘come in’ introduction I intended. Nope, I faceplant right into his shirt. Thank God for good setting spray, or I would have to throw myself off the nearest cliff. Where is the nearest cliff? I’m sure I could google it.
He grabs my arms and lifts me up, stepping into my home as he rights me. “Whoa, you okay? You gotta be careful there.”
“Stupid strappy cute shoes.” Once my foot is snug and no longer causing a potential health hazard, I take a step back, smoothing out my dress and resetting myself. “Hi.”
I’m not expecting Joey’s expression, or the range of emotions that move over it in such rapid succession. Amusement, following a glance of darkened lust before he closes his eyes. When he opens them, there’s a quick flash of shame.
Yikes. Shame? Am I not hot enough for him? Maybe he regrets asking me, because a blue-haired dogwalker isn’t cool enough to be seen with him.
“You look good.” He’s stammering, and his cheeks shift into a deep pink hue. Wait, is he blushing? He blinks a few times and rubs the back of his neck. “No, you are incredible.”
My ego has officially unlocked a new achievement—I made Joey blush. Joey, a mafia boss in training. Or is he a mafia intern?
He’s dressed in all black, everything perfectly fitted to his frame. His dark hair is slicked back, and it’s the most crime lord he's ever been around me. Despite waving a gun at my face, I never felt threatened by him. But now I see it. The danger lying under the surface.
“Thanks. You look…” I pause to find the right word, “cliché.”
Any hints of shame he felt vanishes, morphing into a generally neutral face. But then his lips curl at the corners. “You sure know how to compliment a man.”
“That’s probably why I’m still single.”
He peeks over my shoulder to my trophy case of books. “Damn, you weren’t kidding. How much of that is demon porn?”
I do a quick survey of the shelves. “Only the top row of special editions. Most special editions are for fantasy.” I shrug and grab my purse. “My e-reader holds all the good stuff.”
I don’t want him in here for too long. At first glance my home is normal, but the longer you’re in it, the more you notice the lifehacks I’ve set up for myself to be a functional human.
At least he takes the clue and steps to the side so we can leave. Moments later we’re in his car. Kingston’s fur is on the front seat. “Is your new furry roommate settling in?”
Joey exhales. “You didn’t warn me he would want to ride shotgun and sometimes step onto my lap like he could drive.”
