Page 87 of Say Yes to the Hot Mess

With a snort, I begin to laugh. And just like that, the awkward spell is broken. Dex smiles, shaking his head.

“That was horrible,” I say.

“Yeah, it was,” he says, laughing a little. “Sorry. I psyched myself up to ask you out, and then I didn’t really think about what would happenafterI asked.”

“What if I had said no?” I tease. “We’d still have to walk together and drive all the way home in the same car.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” he admits, still smiling as we walk. “I just asked when I finally couldn’t stand waiting anymore—but it makes me extra glad you didn’t say no.”

“I like you, Dex,” I say, looking up at me from under my lashes. It’s time to lay it all out on the table. “More than I thought I ever would. I think—I think we could be good together.”

And he doesn’t respond; he doesn’t speak. He just looks at me. But his answering smile says everything, and I swear, for the rest of the night, I’m flying.

* * *

“You look like ababe.”

“Is it too much?”

“No way. You look hot.”

I’m standing in front of the floor-length mirror in my room, staring critically at my reflection—or more specifically, at my clothes. I feel completely ridiculous, worrying this much about my outfit when Dex has seen me in totally nappy clothes. But I can’t help it—it’s the first date I’ve been on since Chet, and it’s with someone I really like.

I smooth my shirt down over my jeans—which, yes, aren’t my favorite thing to wear, but they feel like the best option for this outfit—and study myself in the mirror a bit longer.

“Stop making that face,” Scarlett says from behind me, rolling her eyes. Her face pops up from over my shoulder, Archer on her hip. She bounces him gently as she says, “You look like a goddess.”

“But you’re sure the makeup—”

“Is one hundred percentnottoo much. Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief. “Good. Thank you.” I’m not wearing as much makeup as I did at the wedding we went to, but I am actuallywearingmakeup, which makes it more than my usual.

“I think casual with my hair, yeah?” I say, biting my lip, still looking in the mirror. I lift half of my hair experimentally, but I let it drop again when I see the look on Scarlett’s face. “What?”

“Nothing,” she says. She shakes her head, still trying not to smile. “You’re just cute. You’re so nervous.”

I push away my sudden self-consciousness. “I wouldn’t saynervous, necessarily, just…” I trail off as I try to think of the right word. “All right, yeah, I’m nervous.”

“Why?” she says. “He clearly likes you, and you obviously like him. It will be great!”

“What if it’s not, though?” I say, turning around to face her and finally voicing the worry I’ve been feeling since Dex asked me out last night. “What if it feels really weird and awkward and we lose the progress we’ve made as friends?”

Scarlett shifts Archer from her right hip to her left. “I truly, honestly do not think that will happen. I think you guys might feel a little shy and awkward for a few minutes when you first get over there, and then you’ll start talking and it will be like every other time you’ve hung out, except this time you might get a goodnight kiss.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me, and I laugh.

Mostly to disguise the fact that Ireallywant that goodnight kiss.

“Besides,” she says. “If it ends up truly being terrible, I’m right next door. You can bolt and be home in thirty seconds.”

“That’s true,” I say, nodding, although I hope it doesn’t come to that. Dex is cooking me dinner at his place, and honestly, it’s a perfect date for me. Getting to hang out with him, staying close to home, eating good food—my kind of evening.

As long as it doesn’t somehow go horribly awry.

But I can’t think about it anymore, because at that moment, there’s a knock on the door.

“Oh! He’s here. He’s here!” I say, jumping a little, my good hand flying up to smooth my hair down. I’ve ditched the sling, and it’s actually not that bad having a broken wrist—a bit inconvenient, but not debilitating.

Scarlett just laughs. “Deep breaths, babe. Deep breaths.”

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