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“Holy crap, that’s it,” June breathes, but I’m not sure I agree until I go look at myself in the mirror.
Shifting on my feet, I turn to one side, then the other, checking myself out. The very conservative sweater dress I wore at Christmas with a pair of festive leggings has been transformed into something else completely. With the belt cinched around my upper waist, the sweater pools over the top of it, showing my curves, and the boots give a small glimpse of my thighs every time I move. “It’s not too much?”
“Are you kidding me? It’s perfect.” July comes up behind me and pulls the tie out of my hair. “You look hot but still very much like you.”
“I think the biggest question is, are you comfortable?” June asks, and I meet her gaze in the mirror for a moment before looking myself over once more. The whole outfit is sexy, but still I don’t feel as exposed as I thought I would.
“It’s not something I would normally choose, but I love it.” I look at April, and she grins at me.
“Good, our work here is done.” July claps. “Now, finish getting ready and drink the rest of your drink. Your date is going to be here in about twenty minutes.”
“What?” My eyes widen, and panic fills the pit of my stomach. I don’t know how it’s possible for the time to have gone by so quickly since I got home.
“You’ll be fine, and tonight is going to be perfect.” December kisses my cheek as I grab my brush off the counter.
“And if it’s not fine, you’ll call us, and we will make it okay,” June adds, giving me a quick hug.
“I love you guys.”
“We love you too, and hopefully we will meet this guy soon.”
My stomach summersaults at the idea of them all meeting Aiden one day, or more so the idea of him meeting my parents. Not that I don’t love them, but between my dad’s overprotectiveness and my mother’s tendency to want to marry all of her girls off, things could be awkward.
“Cross that bridge when you get to it.” July laughs, reading my expression. “And call us tonight to let us know how things went.”
“I will.” I finish brushing my hair, then as they pack up the stuff they brought with them, I refresh my makeup and perfume before I add a red stain to my lips. By the time I’m done, my sisters have said goodbye, and I’m a nervous wreck, the drink I had doing nothing to relax me.
With just minutes to spare, I feed Cooper, Bella, and Blue, then pace the living room with my cell phone in my hand. My heart sinks with every minute that passes, and at 6:30 p.m., I sit on my couch and scroll through the texts between Aiden and me from today, him confirming he would be at my house to pick me up tonight, and me confirming I would be ready.
Closing my eyes, I try to rid myself of the ugly feeling in the pit of my stomach, the same feeling I had the night Mike stood me up, then remind myself Aiden isn’t some guy I’ve never met, and if he’s late, something must have happened to him.
Opening my eyes, I start to type out a message to ask if he’s okay, then jump when my doorbell goes off. With my heart pounding, I stand from the couch and head down the hall behind Cooper, who is enthusiastically leading the way. Seeing Aiden’s shadow outlined through the glass, I swing open the door, then gasp when I see the bruises on his face and a cut on his upper lip that is bleeding slightly.
“Sorry I’m late.” He places his hand against my stomach, pushing me back into the house, then closes the door as I blink at him. “I would have called, but my cell isn’t working.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket—or what’s left of it, anyway. The black device that was already in need of replacing is a mangled mess and probably not safe to carry around with the amount of glass sticking out of it.
“What happened?”
“Some dickhead on a motorcycle almost ran me over when I was walking across the street to pick up your flowers.” He shakes his head. “He missed, but when I jumped to get out of his way, I was sideswiped by a truck going the opposite direction.”
“What?” I look him over and notice then that his jacket and clothes are dirty and torn in a few places. “Did you call the cops?”
“Yeah, which is why I’m late.” He scrubs his fingers through his hair and flinches.
“Did they call an ambulance?”
“I told them not to.” His eyes wander over me, and his expression fills with regret. “Fuck, I’m sorry, baby.”
“You’re sorry?” I want to laugh, but it’s not appropriate right now, especially when he’s obviously in pain. “Come on.” I grab his hand and lead him to the kitchen, where I pull out one of the chairs at the island. Pushing him down to sit, I then grab a towel and get some ice from the freezer. “You should really go to the hospital.”
“I’m fine, just a little scratched up.” He takes the ice from me when I press it to the side of his face, then grabs my hand to keep me in place when I try to step back. “You look beautiful.”
“You should go to the hospital,” I repeat, ignoring his compliment and the way he’s looking at me.
“I’m fine,” he repeats softly, and I slowly lift my hand and touch my finger to the cut on his lip. It’s not deep or very big, but I still imagine it hurts. “What color is that?”
“What?” I lift my gaze to his, finding him staring at my mouth. “You got hit by a truck. The last thing you should be thinking about is the color of my lipstick.”
“It looks like cherry. Does it taste like cherry?” His eyes slide up to mine, and the place between my legs spasms.
“I’ll be back.” I shake my head at him, then wiggle free from his grasp, not sure how I ended up between his spread thighs with his hand around my hip.
I go to my bathroom, get my first aid kit from under the sink, and take it with me back to the kitchen. When I get there, he’s not holding the ice to his face. Instead, he’s giving Cooper a rubdown. “You need to keep the ice on that bruise.”
“I’m fine.”
