Page 62 of A Slice of Love

“I love you, Francis.”

“Love you too.”

I toss my phone onto the bed and meander over to my closet to continue my search for the perfect outfit.

What does one wear on a first date that hasn’t actually been designated a date?

A thought hits me, and before I can overthink it, I pick my phone back up and tap Julian’s name.

I already know he’s going to just love getting this phone call.

“Hello?”

“I need help.”

“With?”

“I need an outfit.”

He sighs. “We’ve been over this—I am not your gay best friend who’s going to give you makeovers and braid your hair and do other bullshit girly crap.”

I laugh. “Except you already did give me a makeover.”

“I encouraged you to do your hair and get contacts. Big whoop.”

“And forced me to go to that beauty counter in the mall, and then bought me makeup.”

“Okay, fine. Then we’ll say I gave you a makeover. Whatever.” I can practically hear him roll his eyes. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“With?” I can picture him sitting forward, excited and eager to hear my answer because he already knows what it will be.

Julian’s been walking on air since he—according to him—reunited Jonas and me.

I groan. “Stop it.”

“Nah, I’m good. I want you to say it.”

“Jonas,” I grind out begrudgingly. “Are you happy now?”

“Delighted.” He laughs like the jerk he is. “Now, where are you two lovebirds off to?”

“I’m not telling you. You’ll show up.”

“You really think I’m going to show up and cockblock you? After you’ve pined after him for years? What kind of best friend do you think I am?”

“The best of the best, Igor. And also, an asshole.”

“Fair enough.” He chuckles. “But I kind of need to know where you’re going so I can dress you properly.”

“Oh.” I didn’t think of that. “Fine. We’re going to the county fair.”

“Well this is easy: put on your shortest pair of shorts and a tight tee. Boom. Done.”

“Are you serious?” I growl. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

“Yes, because believe it or not, dressing yourself isn’t rocket science.”

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