Page 46 of Studious
“Danny took me to his hairstylist,” he says. “I asked him to help me with, you know. Self-confidence.”
I grin. “He was already a handsome guy. He just needed a little direction.”
“Thank you,” she says. “It’s nice to be able to see his eyes. I haven’t been able to do as much with him—”
“I’m an adult, Mom. Don’t you fuss about me.” He sighs. “Anyway, Danny’s going to help me with clothes, too, and he wanted to see what I had first.”
“You’re the one he stayed with the other night?” She gives me an appraising look. One I know well from my own mother.
But nothing happened, so I keep my expression neutral. I nod. “That’s right.”
She seems to accept that. “Are you going to stay for dinner?” she asks me.
I don’t know what the right answer is. I want to stay, but does Alden want me to?
He shrugs. “You can if you like. Not sure what we’ll have.”
“Then yes, I’d love to stay,” I say. “I can help cook.”
“Oh, he’s a keeper, Alden.”
I grin to myself.
“Mom, he’s just a coworker.” He scrubs his face. “Let me show you my closet.”
CHAPTER11
Alden
Danny stands in my bedroom, one hand on a hip, watching me as I pull clothes out from my closet.
“I like that,” he says, pointing to a blazer. “And I bet those skinny jeans would look super hot on you.”
“Really?”
He nods. “You may not need to do much shopping. You just may need to be brave enough to tap into the guy you thought you were when you bought these. But we’ll get some new things, too, to round out your wardrobe.” He pulls out a T-shirt and reads it. “‘I swear by my pretty floral bonnet, I will end you.’ What’s this?”
“It’s aFireflyshirt. Old TV show.”
Danny smiles. “Okay. Will you show it to me sometime?”
“I’d love to. It has the best quotes.”
“What are some of your favorites?”
“There are a few funny math ones, but I think my all-time favorite is when the captain says to one of the crew, ‘My days of not taking you seriously are certainly comin’ to a middle.’”
Danny laughs, and it warms me. He pulls out one of my suits and holds it up to me, inspecting it. “Where did you get this?”
“Warehouse store.”
“I can tell. It needs to be tailored. The suits I’ve seen you wear have the crotch too low and the sleeves too long. I know a guy. We’ll bring your suits to him so he can tailor them to fit your body. I promise you’ll feel better in them when that’s done.”
We pile up my clothes to take to the tailor, and I check my phone for the time. “Want to help make dinner?”
“Of course,” he says, and gives me this big grin.
There’s something soothing in the fact that I know he’s out of reach. Because I know I can never try for him, I’m not awkward around him anymore. That, and the whole already having seen me at my worst thing.
