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A skin-tight, white dress that hugged every inch of her damn body, from the high neck to the knee-length skirt. She’d paired that one with a set of bright red heels.
If I were ten years younger, I’d have a boner on the spot.
I wasn’t sure I didn’t, to be honest.ME: I’m really not qualified to answer this.Mostly because if I told her not to wear the third one, it wouldn’t be because she looked bad. It would be because Jamie would take one look at her and get an erection.
Like I was currently sporting.
In my car.
In the parking lot of the old people’s home.
Fan-fuckin’-tastic.KINSLEY: Omg you have to help me!!!!!ME: Don’t you have friends for this????KINSLEY: JOSSSSSHHHHHHME: What can I tell you that Holley, Saylor, Ivy, or Tori can’t? What did they say? Have you even asked them?My phone rang with her name flashing on the screen. With a sigh, I answered, and it automatically connected to my car via Bluetooth, but Kinsley spoke before I had a chance.
“Of course I asked them!” she said down the line. “I’m not an idiot!”
I started the engine and backed out of my parking spot. “What did they say?”
“Holley and Saylor voted the red, Ivy said I looked more comfortable in the jeans, and Tori told me to wear the white dress and hike it up two inches.”
“That sounds like a scarily accurate representation of them all,” I mused, pulling onto the main road.
“I know, but I need a guy’s opinion and it’s not like I can ask Colton. I’m nervous enough without you making this decision harder.”
“Don’t you have to be at the restaurant in half an hour?”
“Yes! So help me!”
“Jesus, no need to shout. I’m driving, you know.”
“Good. Drive over here and help me.”
“Can’t. I just left tea with Grandma. I won’t get there in time.” I flicked the indicator in the direction of my house. “All right. What do you want me to tell you?”
“Which one should I wear?”
“Whichever one you feel most comfortable in,” I replied honestly. “There’s no point wearing the white dress if you’re worried it’s too much. The red is great, but Ivy’s right and you seem more comfortable in the jeans.”
She groaned. “Can’t I cancel it?”
“The date? No. It’s too late.”
“Damn it all to hell.”
“What would someone in your book do?”
“What?”
“If you were a character in a book, what would she do right now?”
“Well, probably fall over her dog’s rope and sprain her ankle,” she answered. “But I don’t have a dog, so…”
“What kind of books are you reading?” I muttered, mostly to myself, then said, “What are you going to wear, Kinsley? You’re running out of time.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Rain boots and nipple pasties!” she snapped.
There was a dull click as she hung up, and the car filled with an uncomfortable silence.
Well, if was going to wear that, it was definitely worth stopping by the restaurant to see the looks on their faces…CHAPTER EIGHT – KINSLEYrule eight: dates are not your soapbox. he doesn’t care how many things they got wrong in the third harry potter movie.“It can’t have been that bad.”
I pulled my face up out of my hands and looked at Saylor and Holley. “Our table was booked for forty-five minutes ago and yet I’m here, at the bookstore. I ordered spaghetti. I’m wearing white. You add it up.”
Saylor grimaced. “Okay, it could have been that bad.”
I sat up straight and let them see the state of my white dress. It wasn’t the dress I’d sent to them earlier—I definitely hadn’t been comfortable with the tightness of that—but it didn’t really matter at this point.
Right in front of my dress, smack bang on my boobs, was a big, orange smear.
Holley pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God.”
Saylor didn’t even bother to hide her laughter. “How did you do that?”
I slumped back on the table. “It was a nightmare from the very beginning. His photos were definitely a little old, but whatever, he was nice. Until we started talking. He talked a lot about his job, and when I was finally able to steer the conversation away from it, we started talking about movies.”
“That’s not… so bad,” Holley ventured, coming back from the staff room with three wine glasses and a cold bottle of wine.
“Where did you get that?”
“I had a hunch.” Saylor snorted as she took the bottle from her.
Great. Even they knew this would go wrong.
“Okay, carry on.” Saylor slid a glass in front of me.
“He asked me what my favorites are, and when I said the best ones to binge are Harry Potter, he went on a rant about how shit the movies are and how he had no idea how anyone could enjoy them.”
Both of their eyes widened. They were the literal image of a deer in headlights.
