"Then we're keying his car and egging his house," Jazz Knudsen swears, her eyes flashing behind the counter. "It'll be the least of what he deserves for being too blind to see what's right in front of him."
"You mean the ball of barely functioning anxiety?" I retort, my voice shaking too much for the sarcasm to come through. It's true, though. I'm anxious as hell. I do not want to do this.
It just feels wrong, but if I tell Olive that I have feelings for someone, she won't give up until I tell her who. And if I tell her who, there will be a whole, disastrous chain of events that ends with Jasper looking at me with revulsion every time he sees me.
I'd rather crawl through hell naked, thank you very much. At least I know I can survive that.
"No. I'm talking about the shy goddess who knows every action movie ever made, can read an entire 800-page book in a day, knows how to shake her ass, and looks like a milliondollars," Jazz says, smirking at me. "You're beautiful, Sarah. If your date doesn't see it, fuck that guy."
I laugh softly, suddenly glad as hell I decided to get ready here instead of at home. I need the moral support, and no one is more supportive than Jazz when she's ready to do damage on your behalf.
God, I love her.
"Jazz is right." Lilah flashes a grin. "You are beautiful. Especially in that dress."
She isn't entirely wrong. The dress flatters my curves, giving me shape that I'm lacking most days. I feel beautiful in it. But still…
"Are you sure you don't need me to stay?" I ask, chewing on my bottom lip. "I can cancel."
Lilah hesitates like she's going to give me the out I desperately want, and my heart leaps.
"You absolutely cannot cancel," Olive cries, stepping out of the back with her hands on her hips, ready for battle. "You're going on your date, or I'm disowning you!"
My heart plummets like a freaking meteor.
Dammit.
"You can't disown me," I say, trying to pretend I'm not disappointed. "I know all of your secrets."
My best friend just glares at me. "You're going, Sarah. I'll tie you up in my car and carry you to the restaurant myself if I have to do it."
Jazz nods, backing her up.
Awesome. Now they're ganging up on me.
"Fine." I throw my hands up, resigned to dinner with this man. It'll be awkward. He'll hate me. And then I never have to do it again. "I guess I'm going."
I know I've made a mistake as soon as I step into the restaurant. It's loud and crowded, and my heart is beating a million miles a minute.
"Welcome to Coltram's!" A hostess pops up in front of me, beaming. "Are you waiting for someone?"
"Um…" I crane my neck, trying to see, but I don't even know who I'm looking for. Alex and I haven't exchanged photos. Olive insisted we do this the old-fashioned way and save the reveal for dinner. One of these days, I'll learn to stop listening to her. She has terrible ideas. "I'm meeting someone," I tell the hostess. "At the bar."
"Oh!" Somehow, her bright smile gets even brighter. "Come with me, and I'll grab you a table."
"Thanks," I mutter, scrubbing my hands down my sides again. My whole damn body shakes as I follow her through the restaurant, weaving between tables until we step into the bar.
I try to guess who he is—maybe the businessman drumming his fingers on the table or the jock flirting with the bartender—as she leads me past both of them to a high top in the corner.
"I'll send someone by with some water while you wait," the hostess says, grinning at me as I scramble up into the tall stool.
"Thanks," I huff, falling into it about as gracefully as a panda.
I don't even have time to get settled before my phone buzzes. I grumble, pulling it out of my clutch.
Of course it's Olive.
Olive: Have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!
