Page 64 of Dangerous Games

BRONWYN

Okay, I’m officially freaking the fuck out.

I’ve always seen girls do this in the movies where they have an important date with a guy and have no idea what to wear. They call in reinforcements, and all their girlfriends rush over to help with hair, makeup, outfits, the whole nine yards. It always looked so fun but seemed like a moment that was so out of reach for me.

Except now it’s happening to me and I want to scream. I have no idea what to wear to a family dinner. I’ve never been to one in my entire life, my family included. I don’t have any friends to call over and help me either, unless you count Nate. But based on the graphic tees and jeans he wears on the daily, I highly doubt he has any fashion sense or would even care about my problem. My next best option was to ask Wiz, but for once in my life, when I really need him to be online, he’s nowhere to be found. I don’t know much about his dating life or if he’s ever done the whole meet the parents’ thing, but at this point, any insight would be helpful. I wonder what Gio said to him last night. I hope he wasn’t an asshole and pissed him off. When I logged on, I went into the chat to see what he said, but it had been deleted.

Fucking Gio.

I sent Wiz a message apologizing. Not that I owe him an explanation, but he’s the closest thing to a real friend I have, even if it is through a screen. That man is chronically online, so I feel like he might be avoiding me.

It’s safe to say I’m fucked nine ways to Sunday.

There’s no way of getting out of this. I could fake being sick, but I know Gio. He would drag my ass to his mom’s, claiming she could make me feel better. I can’t think of anything more mortifying.

He doesn’t know this, but I’ve never done the whole meet the parents’ thing. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit that at my ripe age of twenty-six years old, I’ve never been in a serious committed relationship. It feels like I’m missing out on a requirement to enter my thirties. Well, that, and I’m clearly just way behind in life in general.

I flip through the clothes on my rack as I let my hair air dry before I blow it out. Nothing is screaming “meet the family” to me.

I was a little upset when I woke up this morning to find the spot Gio was sleeping cold with him nowhere in sight. He didn’t leave a note but managed to brew me a pot of coffee. That was nice and thoughtful, but it doesn’t help me with what to wear. I’ve only ever seen Matteo and Gio in suits, so if I had to guess, tonight wouldn’t be an exception.

I have one dress to my name that I thrifted. The tags were still on it, too. It’s an A-line black velvet fitted dress with long sleeves that hits mid-thigh. Black lace decorates the hem, the edges of the sleeves, and the outline of the V-neck. With it being a V-neck, it doesn’t show too much cleavage where it’s not appropriate for a dinner. It shows just the right amount to leave you wanting more. I think this will have to do.

I finish blowing out my hair, giving it enough volume so it looks bouncy. I add a light layer of makeup, not wanting to go overboard for a family thing. Looking myself over in the cheap full-length mirror I bought at Walmart, I play with the lace hem. Showing this much leg seems a little…scandalous. Not that I’m a prude, but I want to make a good first impression. Even if Gio and I don’t work out, I still have ties to his family because I live in a unit they own.

Although I guess if Gio and I don’t work out, I would probably move out. I don’t think I would be able to stand the chance of running into him on a daily basis. Something about Gio tells me he would be a psycho ex.

I snap my fingers. Tights. I need tights.

I make a mad dash to my dresser and yank open the top drawer before I frantically dig through it. I know I remember seeing a pair in here somewhere. Why do I have them? Couldn’t tell you. Maybe past me knew future me would need them at some point. I find them in a tiny ball shoved in the back corner, buried behind the pairs of socks and underwear that never get worn. I quickly slip them on just as there’s a knock at my door.

Shit.

“Out of all the times, now is the one he decides to knock?” I fix my dress before walking over to the door, unlocking it and opening it, expecting to see Gio standing on the other side except there’s no one there. I poke my head out, looking both ways down the alley to see if I spot someone walking away, but it’s empty. “Hello?” I call out only to receive no response. It feels like someone is watching me, but there’s no one there.

I shrug, trying to shake the feeling about how fucking weird that was as I close the door. Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me.

No, that can’t be it.

I swore I heard a knock.

I’m probably fucking losing it.

The feeling doesn’t go away no matter how many times I try to convince myself that I was hearing things as I try to pick shoes. I’m so far in my head that I don’t hear Gio let himself in.

“Wow,” he says softly, startling me.

I let out a scream as I turn around to face him, throwing the only thing I have in my hand at him in a poor effort to defend myself, a high-heeled shoe. The pump hits heel first, smack dab in the middle of his forehead.

“Ow, what the fuck?!” Gio exclaims, jumping back as the heel falls to the floor and his hand goes to his forehead, rubbing the spot he was hit.

“Oh my god,” I rush out as I dash over to him. My hands reach out, latching onto his arms. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Let me see.” Gio lets me pull his hand away from his forehead. Blood covers his palm. I wince as I take in the red welt that’s already forming as I watch blood trickle down his forehead.

Shit.

There’s no way his family isn’t going to notice that.

“What was that for?” Gio asks, finally looking at me as he goes back to rubbing his forehead, smearing blood all over.