Page 39 of A Really Bad Idea

“Okay. I will be waiting at eight. Have a good night.” I’m suddenly eager to end this phone call.

“Meadow,” he calls out before I can hang up. “Sweet dreams.”

“Good night, Christian.”

I drop the phone on my duvet and let out the largest breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. I guess there’s one upside to this. I’m now so frazzled over the expectation of having sex with Christian that I’m not stressing over having his baby.

If you think knowing what to wear on a date would make getting ready easier, you are wrong.

Staring at my underwear drawer, I’m looking at the selection before me. I have G-strings, thongs, boy shorts, classic briefs, high waist with tummy control, and Spanx.

In the past, I wasn’t a sex-on-the-first-date kinda girl, yet I always wore a little something sexy just in case.

This is … different.

While Christian said he wants three dates, it’s unnerving to know that, without question, there will be sex.

Oh dear.

“Tonight is only date one. That means, tonight calls for these,” I say to myself as I select the practical panties with the high waist for tummy control. They’re not the ugliest, but they aren’t my sexy-time lingerie. I grab my best strapless bra and secure it on.

My indecisiveness didn’t start here. It began in the shower where I hemmed and hawed to myself, deciding how much personal grooming to do. I settled on doing the works.

In the bathroom, I grab my deodorant and then apply perfume to my neck. Looking inside my panties, I give it a whirl and apply a little spritz down there.

“Holy mother of—” I scream at the burning that is taking place over my freshly shaven hoo-ha. I’m dancing around my bathroom, airing out the sting of fragrance that is now making my skin turn red. “Well, that settles any concern about letting things go too far tonight.” One funky-looking razor burn is enough to keep the legs closed.

When the pain has simmered down, I take a breath and look in the mirror over the sink. I tie my hair in a towel atop my head, and my skin is dewy from the bath. I have dark circles under my eyes from not sleeping well last night. How could I?

Christian will be here in forty-five minutes, and I’m a ball of nerves. We’ve been friends for years, but we’ve never dined alone like this.

With friends? Yes.

With family? Countless times.

Alone over a romantic dinner for two? Never.

I’m not counting a sushi roll over lunch or eating it in the office break room or even sharing a blanket at a family picnic as having an intimate meal together. We always have coworkers or family around to join us. Tonight will be the first time we’ll be on a date.

I try to block my mind from running rampant by curling my hair, using my big-barrel brush to form loose curls because I know that’s how he likes it. And, when I do my makeup, I keep it subtle, except for dramatic lashes because that’s how I like it.

I slide my dress on and step into a pair of heels, taking one last look at myself in the mirror.

“What are you so nervous about? It’s just Christian.”

Just Christian. I feel like I’m lying.

The man is beautiful. He gives me butterflies just with his damn grin. There, I admit it. I’ve always found him impossibly sexy, but it’s never been like that for us. We’ve never stepped out of the friend zone.

Actually, we’re still in the friend zone. We’re not stepping into anything. We’re just—

Buzz. Buzz.

The telltale buzzing sound of Salvatore calling from the lobby has me answering my intercom. “Hello?”

“Good evening, Miss Duvane. Dr. Christian Gallagher is in the lobby,” Salvatore announces.

I scrunch my face in confusion. “You can send him up like you usually do.”