The nightstands that don’t match because Hornsby doesn’t know what white oak is.
The disheveled and wrinkled bedding on her bed because we all tried to make the bed together, but none of us were taking directions from each other.
It’s a fucking disaster.
I move my hand over my forehead, my nerves completely shot, as the boys join me in the living room.
“I never noticed how uninspiring your apartment was until you added that candle,” Pacey says. “Now I’m questioning if you should have it at all.”
“See, I fucking told him that.” I gesture to Posey.
“Nah, I think the candle is a nice touch,” Silas says.
“Thank you.” Posey throws his arms up in exasperation.
We all turn to Hornsby, who looks between us. “Uh . . . I don’t know much about candles. Penny is really in charge now.”
I’m just about to pick up the candle and hand it off to Posey when there’s a knock on the door.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“She’s here,” Posey says.
“Shit, am I sweaty?” I lift my arms and turn toward the boys.
“Oooo, giant pit stains,” Pacey says. “Go change your shirt.”
Hornsby leans in and sniffs me. “And throw on more deodorant.”
Taters slaps me in the ass. “Hurry. We’ll distract her.”
Too fucking flustered to even ask if all four of them greeting her would be weird, I run down the hall to my disheveled room and tear my shirt over my head. I toss it in my hamper in my walk-in closet and quickly grab a black Agitators shirt and toss it on. I hear them open the door and greet her, so I quickly grab my deodorant, swipe it on, then, for the hell of it, swish some mouthwash around, too.
When I spit out the mouthwash, I look up into the mirror and adjust my hair with my shaky hand.
Jesus, man. Calm the fuck down.
The last thing you need to do is stumble over your words and look like a bumbling mess.
I take a few deep breaths and then head out to the living room, making sure to shut my bedroom door behind me. The boys part, and Blakely is there, two large suitcases by her side, looking so fucking good in a black hat with her hair curled over her shoulders. She wears a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved sweater that hangs slightly off her shoulder, revealing some lacy strap hugging her shoulder.
Fuck.
Me.
“Hey, there you are. Posey told me you spilled a smoothie all over your shirt so you had to change.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
Unsure of what to do, I stick my hands in my pockets. “Yeah . . . I changed.” I swallow the saliva building up in my mouth from the anxiety ripping through me.
She smiles. “Well, I didn’t think half the team would be here to greet me, so what a surprise.”
“We were having a team meeting,” Taters says. “We like coming to Holmes’s place because it just has that cozy feel to it, don’t you think?”
Blakely looks around and I can see the confusion in her eyes as she takes in the cold concrete walls and floors. But because she’s nice, she says, “Oh yes, very cozy.”
“Well.” Posey claps his hands together. “We should get going. The ice isn’t going to skate on itself. Got to keep our legs warm.”
