Page 81 of Grin and Bear It

“El…” She followed me back in my room after I dumped the bags by the front door, then went back to tackle the main issue, the pressing one of what to wear. “El—”

“No.” I snapped that out, then felt a flush of shame when I did, but rather than apologise, I just frowned. “No, Coll, just no.” I surveyed the mess of my room, the disorder suddenly hitting me like a punch to the gut. “I can’t talk now, I’ve got…”

Shit, hours had gone by fucking around with my makeup and I saw the second hand ticking on my smartwatch like it was a knife hanging over my head. That sharp twist in my gut wound tighter and I ran back to my bedroom, grabbing clothing, sure that I’d find something more suitable. But everything was either too tight or too loose, too casual, too stained, too fancy. I couldn’t let them think I was anticipating being taken to a place that had earned five Michelin stars, just in case they were taking me for a counter meal at the pub. But while jeans and a nice shirt would have been OK for that scenario, what if it was a fancy restaurant? I was gonna walk in by their sides, looking like I barely gave a shit?

“Clothes say a lot about a person,” my mum had said primly, yet again, when I rebelled against her strict sartorial control. “You need to think about what yours say about you.”

“Fuck…” I hissed. “Maybe I should ring Mum.”

“OK, what the fuck, El?” Coll’s face swam into view. “You only ring your mum when you have to, and with good reason. That chick should be employed by Special Forces, because she could break a man with an icy look and a few cutting comments about his life choices, no problems at all.”

She snatched my phone from my hand and then tossed it out of reach, into the carpet of clothing that was now everywhere, before slapping her hands down on my shoulders.

“What the hell is going on?”

“You.” That wasn’t right, was it? But the words came tumbling out and I couldn’t seem to stop them. “You keep on at me about Netflix and chill. Like it's the worst possible way for a man and a woman to spend time together. Like beating the brains out of baby seals is preferable. And now…”

“And now?” she prompted.

“And now I’m going out and I can’t work out what to wear and I don’t want to look too fancy or not fancy enough and I can’t ring Nash and ask—”

“Why can’t you ask Nash?” she said, looking at me. “Why can’t you ask him?”

“Because…” I threw my hands up, jerking myself away to pace back and forth, crushing cheap fabrics as well as nice ones under my heels as I went. “Because it's not supposed to be easier for a guy to get you off with a paintbrush than it is for two other guys to take you out to dinner.”

“Oh, El…” I hated that sigh, that sympathy, that confirmation that, yet again, I was a fucking mess. But that was OK, because Coll’s expression shifted swiftly. “Wait, a paintbrush?”

“Cole came in and… urgh! It doesn’t matter, right? I’m not going out for dinner with him.” Then my cheeks flamed. “Maybe he doesn’t even want to. I mean—”

“Whoa, whoa, girlfriend.” Coll gave me a little shake and the clack of my teeth against each other helped slow the anxiety spiral I was caught in. “I know for a fact those guys would be taking you out for four course meals at the swankiest place in town every night, if that’s what you want.”

“God, please, no…” I moaned.

“If you want,” she repeated with emphasis. “If you ring them now and say a fancy date is too much, they’ll change their plans.”

“Yeah, but—”

“And if you want to put this off until a bit later, that can happen too.”

“No, I—”

“El, you’re in the driver’s seat, and I know for a fact how fucking scary that is.” That’s what had me stopping, listening. I studied her face, because Colleen seemed to just rampage through life, going from strength to strength, the calm, capable one to my hot mess. “Why the hell do you think I went running from the best guy I’ve ever met?”

“Because you’re a fucking idiot who wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit you on the arse?” I replied.

“Because I was a fucking idiot who wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit me on the arse. But now I do.” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “And that’s hard in an ‘oh no, I just won fifty million dollars on the lotto’ kind of way. Everyone else is out there trying to find someone worth their time and we…” She smiled then. “We’ve got the perfect guys and we just have to work out how to allow ourselves to be happy. Now.”

She flashed my phone at me to use my face to unlock it, then dived into my messages.

“Coll, no—”

“Why, got sexy conversations about other trade related items that can be repurposed as sex toys?” she asked with a smirk. “Hang on. ‘Can a clamp handle be used as a butt plug’” She pretended to type that out. “Inquiring minds must know.”

But then she hit send.

“Fuck!” I snatched my phone back, looking down sharply at the messages to see that she’d sent something else entirely.

Where are we headed tonight?she’d texted Nash.Just want to make sure I’m wearing something sexy enough for the occasion.

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