Page 29 of My Favorite Sin

“Yeah.”

She swivels around on her chair to face me and smiles. “That’s exciting. Who’s the guy?”

The pen stops. “My brother, Dan, knows the guy through a friend. We’re going on a double date.”

“Oh, a set up? Interesting. How are you feeling about the date?”

“I’ve never been on a date before so I’m nervous. But I spoke to the guy on the phone, and it went well. Fingers crossed the date is a success.”

“Have you decided on what to wear?”

“Not yet.”

Her eyes light up with intrigue. “Oh, youhaveto let me help.”

My mouth opens and closes, unable to form a reply. The girls from my teenage years and their cruel ways are my first thought, and a vision enters my mind of Violet purposefully choosing an unattractive outfit for my date.

I shake the thought away, telling myself to stop projecting my fears upon other people. This is why I have no friends, because I’ve closed myself off.

“Thank you. That would be nice,” I say. “Maybe I cantake some photos of my clothes and bring them to work tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is too long to wait. I’ve mentally checked out of work for the day now that I’ve heard about your date. Do you live nearby? We can head to your place now and choose an outfit.”

“Um, yeah, okay. Let’s go.” I’ll take this as a win too.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DAN

“Do I look all right?”

“Yes, for the hundredth time. You look amazing,” I tell Ally as we arrive at the front of an Italian restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen for the double date.

Her appearance ismorethan amazing. I can’t even look at her without my mind turning to filth. Thank fuck she hasn’t caught me staring. My gaze keeps traveling to the gap of skin between her pink plaid skirt and thigh-high white socks with pink satin bows at the tops. When I’m not looking at that soft strip of skin, it’s at her breasts beneath that tight white shirt.

Ally once told me she only wears clothes she thinks I’ll like. I used to get off on seeing what outfit she chose each day, knowing it was for me. Of course, Ally could have worn a sack and I’d have still thought she was the most beautiful girl in the room, but the clothes were a symbol when around our family and in public that she was secretly mine.

“Sorry. I’m nervous about this date,” she says. “I want to look nice.”

I’m fucking pissed, hearing Ally speak like that andknowing she spent the lead up to this evening prettying herself for Liam. I’ve tried talking Ally out of this date multiple times, reminding her that she’s meant to build a friendship with Liam first. But she’s impatient. She says they’ve been texting throughout the week and things are progressing well.

I hold open the restaurant door for Ally. As she steps inside, her phone buzzes and she’s quick to check it.

“Oh, that’s Liam.” She reads the message and laughs, then types something back to him. My teeth clench. I’ve never seen her like this with a guy before and it’s taking everything in me to act happy for her.

“Welcome to Dolce Trattoria,” a waiter greets us. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes. Blackwood,” I answer.

While the waiter checks the reservations book, a female calls out to me. “Hey, Dan.”

Both Ally and I turn, finding Chelsea walking toward us—my date for the night. She’s a model who frequents The Scarlett Mirage and is one of the many women who can often be seen hanging off Felix’s arm. After I got pissed at Felix for giving Liam Ally’s number and explained how I now needed to find a date without leading a girl on, he offered up Chelsea, saying he’d fill her in on my situation and she’d do this favor for him.

I thought having Chelsea as a date would be effortless. In hindsight, I fucked up, considering what she’s wearing. The woman looks like she’s modelling a BDSM lingerie line, with a leather skirt that does little to cover her ass, fishnet stockings, a sheer bra that reveals the outline of her nipples, and a black choker. Her lipstick is a bright pop of red, and her black hair is tied in a knot on top of her head. I know Chelsea is eclectic with her fashion; each time I’ve seen her,she looks drastically different, but how the fuck does this outfit match the friendly vibes of the date I described to her?

Chelsea slinks her arms around my neck, pressing her breasts to me. “It’s so good to see you again, Dan.”

She speaks as if we’re more than just acquaintances. I act polite and return the hug for Felix’s sake. As far as I can tell, the two of them are just fucking and not exclusively, but I’m not about to be rude and comment that her attire is inappropriate, making this situation more awkward than it already is.

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