“Very romantic,” Beckett adds. “Really swept her off her feet there.”
“Shut up,” Rane and I say at the same time.
More laughter. I look down at myself—old t-shirt, joggers, hair in a messy knot on top of my head.
“Um. Give me ten?”
“Sure.” Rane’s still smiling. “Take your time.”
“White,” Beckett says without looking up from his book. “Trust me.”
I pause at the bottom of the stairs. “How do you—”
“Just trust me.”
I bolt for the stairs.
Ten minutes. I can do this in ten minutes.
I dig through my closet until I find it—the white outfit. The one Zoe made me buy. Leather pants, lace and leather top, the silver chain choker.
I stare at it for a second.
It’s just dinner. It’s just Rane.
But it’s not just anything. It’s a date. A real one. And I want to look like someone who deserves to be taken on a date.
I put it on.
The leather slides on smooth. The lace settles against my skin. The chain is cool at my throat.
I grab the makeup bag—everything Mira suggested at the counter. I don’t have time to overthink it. A single shimmer on my lids. Mascara. The lip gloss that smells faintly like vanilla.
I look in the mirror.
I don’t look like someone who sleeps in alleys anymore.
I look like someone who belongs somewhere. I look like someone who could be wanted. Who could walk into a place and not get thrown out the back. I look… like I belong.
Deep breath.
I head back downstairs.
The living room goes quiet.
Chapter 32
Rane
The guys won’t shut up.
“You sure you don’t want to practice your bow again?”
“Maybe drop to one knee this time.”
“‘Would you do me the honor’—who even talks like that?”
“Shut up.” I adjust my collar for the fifteenth time. “All of you.”
