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How to Fail at Flirting(18)

Author:Denise Williams

I laughed, despite my rising panic. “God, Fel. Who says that? Please, be serious. I’m minutes away from losing it.”

“Calm down. If the guy wants it and you don’t, he can go home alone and get acquainted with his right hand.”

“That’s not what has me worried.” I sighed, hanging both sweater sets back in my closet. Shapeless cardigans for a date? C’mon. “I don’t know. You guys talked me into that list, and now I kind of want to try.”

Felicia was silent for a beat, and I imagined her biting her lip, brows knit on the other end of the line as she weighed out how to best advise me. “Here’s what you do. Take a few deep breaths when you start to get worked up. You said he’s here just for the weekend, right? You’ll be careful, so best-case scenario, you have some consequence-free fun. Worst-case scenario, you have an awkward, sexless date. Either way, he leaves town in a few days and life goes on.”

“You’re right,” I huffed, pulling a mint green tank top from the back of my closet. It was a relic from a shopping trip with Felicia, and I’d never even taken the tags off. Stroking the thin knit fabric of the back and letting the sheer, wispy overlay slip between my fingers, I nodded my head. “You’re right. I’m overthinking this.”

“It’s what you do best. Where are you going, anyway? Somewhere public in case he ends up being a sociopath?”

“Who’s a sosopath, Mommy?” Felicia’s daughter Emily’s voice came through the phone.

“Aunt Naya’s boyfriend, sweetie. Don’t worry about it.”

“Aunt Naya’s going to kiss a sosopath!” Emily’s shout faded as she probably ran down the hall to tell her brothers.

“Thank you for that,” I muttered, opening my top left drawer. The stores of fancy underwear were on the left—lace and satin arranged by color. The everyday cotton in white and earth tones were on the right. My hands hovered before I reached for a pair of mint-colored satin panties and searched for the matching bra. Can’t hurt to be prepared.

“So, where are you going?”

“I suggested Navy Pier. I figured it would be crowded with tourists.” I clipped the tags from the shirt and pulled it over my head. The cotton hugged my body, but the sheer overlay cascaded gently over my curves to my waist.

“Well, that’s definitely public.”

I pulled a flowy black skirt over my hips and slipped my feet into a pair of strappy gold sandals. “Okay, I feel better. You’re right. I should finish getting ready. Talk to you later?”

“Sure. And it should go without saying, but try not to throw up on him. It’s been a long time since you dated, but just for the record, that’s too casual.”

Seven

The sun hung low in the sky, and the crowded pier was awash in a warm, golden light. My heart raced, and I closed my eyes, taking a moment to psych myself up. Breathe. Breathe. The driver eyed me suspiciously, so I hurried out the door with a quick thanks and scanned the crowd for Jake.

“Hey.” His broad smile greeted me as soon as I turned. The dimples. Those lips. “I was a little worried you’d change your mind.” He looked relieved, and I didn’t know why that made butterflies flutter in my stomach.

“I couldn’t let you keep my favorite sweater.”

He had the arms of the pink fabric draped over his shoulders and loosely knotted over the top of his blue-and-white button-down shirt. “What do you think? Pulling it off?” He stepped back so I could admire the accessory.

My smile broke into a laugh, and I shook my head.

“No?”

“Not even a little.”

“Damn.” He gently pulled it from his shoulders, his fingertips brushing mine as he handed it over. “That’s okay. It looks better on you anyway.”

I caught the faint whiff of him on the fabric—the scent of sandalwood mixed with the hotel’s soap. As we strolled down the walkway, I added, “Carnation pink just might not be your color.”

“You’re probably right, but it made you smile, so worth it either way.”

I dipped my head and bit my lower lip.

“Sorry, I seem to get extra cheesy around you.”

When I glanced up, the idea he was a little unsure made me feel more at ease. I didn’t want cocky. I’d been down that road before.

“Nah, you’re Gouda.”

His stare was blank for a beat, and I worried I’d said something stupid, maybe letting my quirkiness out of the bag a little too soon, then the edges of his eyes crinkled to accompany his low and sexy rumbling laugh.

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