The mention of Garrett makes my stomach drop. Right. Garrett will be there tonight. With his fiancée. Which means I need to be prepared for this. Walls up, fake smile ready to go, performance perfected. I can do this. I’ve been doing this my entire life.
The shower turns off and a few minutes later Rodriguez emerges in jeans and a t-shirt, hair damp and messy, water droplets still clinging to his neck. He looks unfairly good for someone who just got off a five-hour flight.
“Better?” he asks.
“Much.” I check the time on my phone. “We should probably start getting ready. Dinner’s at six and it’s about a fifteen-minute walk.”
“What’s the dress code again?”
“Nice but not formal. The dark jeans and that button-up should be fine.”
“You checked what I packed?”
“I saw them when I was hanging up my stuff. I wasn’t snooping.”
“I didn’t say you were snooping.” He’s grinning.
I ignore him and pull out the dress I brought for dinner, a deep blue wrap dress that’s elegant but not trying too hard. At least I hope it’s not trying too hard. “I’m going to change.”
I disappear into the bathroom, aware of him just beyond the closed door. This is going to be such a long six days if I can’t even change clothes without feeling self-conscious about it.
When I come out, he turns and sees me. “That’s a great color on you.”
“Thanks.” I smooth down the dress, my palms damp. “Is it too much? It’s too much, isn’t it? I feel like maybe it’s too low cut and—” I cut myself off, realizing I’ve just directed his attention to my chest.
“No, it’s perfect.” He clears his throat and glances away but I can see his ears turning slightly red. “You look perfect.”
My face gets hot. “You should change too. We need to leave in like thirty minutes.”
He grabs his clothes and goes back into the bathroom. I use the time to fix my hair properly and do my makeup, keeping it simple but polished. Like I have my life together.
He comes out and he looks so good. The button-up fits him perfectly and he’s styled his hair so it’s not messy anymore but still somehow looks effortless.
“Good?” he asks.
“Good.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. “We should go.”
He picks up the hotel key card, holds the door open for me and we walk to the elevator in silence. Both dressed up, walking side by side, and I realize we look like an actual couple.
In the elevator, he reaches for my hand. His fingers lace through mine, warm and solid. “Hey. You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re doing the stressed out thing again.”
“I’m not stressed.”
“JuJu.”
I sigh. “Okay, I’m a little stressed. This is the first time seeing Garrett in a while. And he’s going to be there with her. And my entire family is going to be watching us. And I need to be perfect and I?—”
“Stop.” His thumb traces across my knuckles. “You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to be you. And I’ll be right there with you the whole time. If it gets to be too much, we poodle our way out. Okay?”
I let out a wild little giggle because he’s so confident in his ridiculousness. “Did you justuse poodle as a verb?”
“I did. And I stand by it.”
We walk through the lobby and out onto the street. It’s February in Toronto, so it’s freezing, the air sharp against my face. But the walk to the restaurant gives me time to breathe. To prepare myself.
