Page 20 of The Daughters of Nyx

“Oh yes, of course,” she replied, grinning. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Coffee.” I held up my mug to the Coffee Gods as my offering for a nice day out. “To start with. Hopefully he’s not a total asshole.”

“Did you test him?”

I rolled my eyes, pushing off the counter. “Of course, I did.” The test she referred to was thewill-he-give-up-because-I’m-fattest. It was something we both tended to do often while working at theCamilla—thankfully, Thea less so, because of her position in the kitchen.

Neither of us conformed into the straight-sized body category, and usuallythe testdetermined if a guy was a judgemental prick, had a fetish, or was a decent human being. So far, Rowan had been ruled out of the first. Usually, the second was quick to determine after a date or two.

The third is usually hard to find.

I hatedthe test, but it weeded out the time wasters, and it saved us from making terrible mistakes. Hell, neither Thea nor I used dating apps because despite full body pictures, we still ended up with men in the first category.

Thea sipped her coffee, humming to herself. “Let me know if you’re planning to get laid later,” she said, winking in my direction. “I’ll clear out.”

“I don’t plan on anything like that, but thank you.” Although, I had definitely thought about it. The thought of Rowan like that sparked a fire in my veins that I hadn’t felt since…I shook my head and cleared those thoughts from my mind.

“Beneath all those clothes, I reckon he’s jacked,” Thea replied, setting down her mug. She brought her hands up and pulled them apart. “Andjacked.”

“Thea Grace Riley!” I snapped, though a giggle bubbled from my lips a moment later. She wiggled her brows, continuing to pull her hands out to represent his…length.

My cheeks flamed, and without meaning to, my thighs squeezed together. Warmth fluttered downthereas I imagined what kind of lover he might be.

Givingwas the first thing that came to mind. That when he pleasured, he had his partner in the forefront of his mind, their needs placed above his own. If I were writing him as the hero of one of my romance novels, he’d worship his heroine with his mouth first, before moving on—

I stopped myself there. Partially because the thought had brought on a kind of arousal that felt so unlike me, but also becauseI didn’t know him. He was a guy who’d asked me out. A guy I was meeting for coffee. How could I be imagining all of this now without even knowing his coffee order?

Maybe this was a bad idea. Horny Ivy was rearing her head now, and that was always a bad sign.

“Uh oh.” Thea finished her coffee with a worried frown. “You’re over thinking things now, aren’t you?”

I hadn’t realised I was staring into the milky-brown coffee until her finger was beneath my chin, forcing my stare to hers. Her blue-green eyes were swimming with worry.

“You are going on that date. You are going to sit down with this nice guy, enjoy a coffee you didn’t have to make, and get to know him.” Thea dropped her hand when I nodded. “You do not have to sleep with him. You can drop him after today if that is what you want. But give it a shot. Okay?”

I pursed my lips and groaned. “Yeah, okay.”

Thea jumped back and clapped her hands. “Yes! So, what time are you meeting?”

“At 3,” I replied. “So, I have plenty of time to get some work done.”

“You can take the shower first. Oh, you should curl your hair. And wear something cute! I might have something…” Thea walked off, leaving me in the kitchen and to my thoughts.

~

The day passed by in a blur. Even though I expectednothingfrom this coffee date, I still spent that little extra time in the bathroom with a razor and a facemask, shaving away three weeks’ worth of hair—usually hidden beneath stockings—and hoping the relaxing, rehydrating mask would calm my nerves.

Hair dried and curled, I stood in front of the full-length mirror behind my bedroom door, and chewed my bottom lip.

The forest-green body suit outlined every one of my curves in meticulous detail; from the swell of my breasts to the

dips of my hips and the rolls of my stomach. The neckline was square—meaning a horrendous strapless bra—but somehow, the girls stayed upright, despite the lack of support. Long sleeves covered my arms, but snaking up my shoulders were stretch marks—and for the first time in a long time, I was happy to display them. I was happy to show off my body. I wasn’t afraid.

The blue Mom jeans hugged my hips, giving me an hourglass figure. They were a little tight around the belly, high-rise, but so long as I could sit in them, they’d do. My black ankle boots sitting by the door had a small heel on them—classy, yet still functional.

I released a heavy breath and swiped crimson lipstick across my full lips. Mascara darkened my lashes, and a small amount of highlighter in each corner of my eye and the tip of my nose made up the rest of my make-up.

“Aww, you look so cute,” Thea said from the doorway, snapping a picture. “My beautiful girl is all grown up.” She wiped away an imaginary tear, and ducked when I threw an old beauty blender at her face.

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