THIRTEEN
Hartley
What areyou supposed to wear when you’re going to meet your fake boyfriend’s parents? I’ve been standing in front of my closet for close to twenty minutes now, staring at all of the T-shirts hanging inside.
I’m a baker and I’ve spent all of my time in kitchens where fashion doesn’t matter. I’ve never met anyone’s parents before, but showing up in yoga pants and a loose T-shirt doesn’t seem fancy enough.
I should have thought of this before. Maybe I could have gone somewhere and grabbed something nicer. I have one dress tucked into the back of my closet, but I’ll need that for the wedding on Friday. I definitely can’t show up wearing the same thing all week.
I bite my lip, flipping through the hangers for the millionth time. When I still come up empty, I groan and fall back onto my bed.
I’m supposed to be heading over to Eli’s house any minute now and I should leave soon because it’s still snowing and I’ll need to drive slower. I’m sitting up in bed when there’s a knock on my door. I know who it is before I even go to answer.
Eli is bundled up, shifting from foot to foot on the little landing outside of my door.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” I ask when I notice he’s just in jeans and a thermal shirt.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Eli asks, frowning down at his attire.
“It’s casual. I’ve been freaking out for like half an hour trying to figure out what to wear.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s just at my house, so jeans and a shirt is fine. You should have just sent me a text. I could have told you that,” he says.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as I step out of the way and let him into my apartment.
“I’m here to give you a ride. You shouldn’t be driving around in the snow in your car.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being sweet or a dick again,” I say as I narrow my eyes and study him.
“Hartley. I can’t have you getting in an accident and not holding up your end of the deal.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you. Thanks for thinking of me,” I say sarcastically over my shoulder as I head toward my bedroom.
“It’s no big deal.”
I glare at him, nodding once before I disappear into my room . I leave the door cracked an inch as I head over to my closet and pull out a plaid long sleeve shirt. I grab a pair of skinny jeans from my dresser and hurry to get dressed.
“Speaking of sweet!” I call when I remember his call yesterday.
“What? Who was talking about sweet?”
“I called you sweet like thirty seconds ago. Pay attention,” I say with a laugh as I hop around, pulling on my jeans.
“Right, sorry. Go on,” he says with a chuckle.
“You called me sweets yesterday. Twice. Is that my pet name?”
“Yeah, sorry about that. It just slipped out.”
I can’t see his face but he sounds almost embarrassed and I feel bad for bringing it up.
“No! It’s okay. I… liked it,” I admit.
“Good,” he whispers close to the door.
I tug on my shirt and check my reflection in the mirror once more. My face is flushed from running around the room getting dressed, I assure myself. My eyes look bright and when I look into them. I look happy. I look like a girl excited to go on a date with a guy.
That’s not what this is, I remind myself, giving myself a shake to clear my head.