Page 18 of The Dallas Dilemma

“Don’t interrupt me,” she says, holding up a hand, and I sigh. “And now he wants to take you to dinner? He’s coming up with reasons to spend all day with you, Joey. Turn off that anxious brain of yours and open your eyes. It’s a date.”

And suddenly, I’m even more anxious than I was before. If she’s right, and this is a date, I don’t want to dress too casually. But if she’s wrong, and this is just neighbors grabbing food together, I don’t want to make it totally obvious that Ithoughtit was a date.

Oh, God. I might hyperventilate. Maybe I should just cancel. Stay home. That’s the best course of action, right? I’m safe here. Secure.

“Breathe, Josette,” Twila says firmly, reminding me I’m still on the video call with her and she can see my face while I freak out. “It’s going to befine.”

I nod erratically before taking a deep, cleansing breath and repeating, “It’s going to be fine.”

“Good. Now face me toward your closet so I can help you pick out something cute to wear.”

This. This is why I reached out to my best friend. She knows how to calm me when I’m spiraling. And she has a much better fashion sense than I do.

Twila ends up choosing a pair of dark-washed jeans with slightly flared legs, a pretty lilac blouse that compliments my coloring, and a pair of brown ankle boots that sport chunky heels. She makes me promise to wear make-up, a pair of dangling earrings, and to leave my hair loose and wavy before ending the call so I can shower and get dressed.

When I finish and look at myself in the full-length mirror hanging on my closet door, I have to admit, she’s a genius. The jeans make my legs look longer and the boots give me and extra couple of inches of height. The blouse brings out the green in my hazel eyes, and my long brown hair looks shiny and healthy.

I look good.Damngood.

A knock sounds on the door, and my moment of confidence shatters.Shit.What am I doing? I should text Dallas and tell him I’m sick.

My phone chimes right on cue, and when I pull it from my pocket, I see a message from Twila.

Twila:You’ve got this, girl. Slay.

Glancing at myself in the mirror once more, I stiffen my spine. I’ve got this.

I flick off the bedroom lighton my way out of the room, ignoring the pounding of my heart as I stride toward the door. It’s just dinner. No reason to panic.

I pull open the door before I lose my nerve, then freeze when Dallas’ eyes go wide. His gaze rakes me from head to toe and back up again before he clears his throat.

“Hey,” he says, his voice a bit breathy.

“Hi.”

“You look…you look really pretty.”

“Thanks,” I breathe, my face heating at the compliment.

His eyes focus on my cheeks for a moment before his smile grows, those damn dimples making themselves known before he crooks an elbow in my direction. “You ready to go?”

“Sure,” I say, stepping out and locking my door before hooking a timid hand around his corded forearm.

Our building is downtown, so we decide to walk as we step out into the warm evening air. Dallas asks me where we’re going, and I mention a kitschy pizza place down the block. I decided earlier that pizza was a good choice. Casual enough so that if thisisn’ta date, my choice won’t make things awkward.

Only somehow, it does.

Dallas clears his throat and slows his pace. “Do you mind if we go somewhere else tonight? I’ve ordered pizza four times this week because it was easy and accessible, and I’m kind of burned out on it.”

“Of course,” I say quickly, panic rising up inside me.

I didn’t consider a second option when I decided on pizza. Where should we go?Fuck.

“We can do pizza next time,” he says when I take too long to recommend an alternative.

Next time? There’s going to be a next time? WHY would there be a next time?

Shaking off the intrusive thoughts, I clear my throat. “What are you in the mood for?”

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