Sweet Little Nothing

"Nope." Stella locks her gaze onto mine in the reflection of the mirror in her room. "No, ma'am."

I shrug. "It's true."

"Good vibes only. Today is a good day, and tonight is going to be even better, okay?"

"You think so?" I ask as she begins carefully wrapping sections of hair around the barrel of the wand.

"Yup. Physics says so."

"Physics?" I try to turn my head to look at her, but she pops me with the comb.

"Yeah. Like, you've had so many awful things happen to you, it's time for good. I'm pretty sure it's a universal or karmic law or something."

I can't help but giggle at her attempt to rationalize the universe. "You're a mess."

"And yet, you love me."

"More than you know."

“Do you want me to do your makeup, too?”

“No. I’ll do it. But you can definitely help me pick an outfit. I have no clue what we’re doing, so…”

“Babe. Say no more. I’ve got this.”

Stella darts out of her room and into mine, while I move to the bathroom to start on my makeup.

Since I’m completely in the dark about our plans, I keep my makeup neutral. If I still lived at home, my mother would have pushed for a heavier hand. She is of the belief that natural beauty doesn’t exist. Which probably explains why she’s so pumped full of silicone and injectables; the only natural thing about her is her selfishness.

When I join Stella in my room, it looks like a laundry-filled bomb went off—clothes are everywhere.

“Um. Stell.”

She half sighs, half giggles. “I know. I’ll clean it up. But I think I’ve narrowed it down.”

“Let’s see it.”

“Two options: casual cute,” she says, nodding to a pair of jeans and a sweater. “Or classy cute.” She gestures to a long-sleeved cotton maxi dress with a gauzy overlay.

“Jeans for sure.”

She steps out while I change, and after I’m dressed, I take stock of my appearance in my full-length mirror.

I look like me, only different.

It's not my outfit, my makeup, or my hair. It’s my heart.

For the first time, in a really long time, hope is beating in tandem to the organ in my chest, pumping my veins full of possibility.

My tummy flutters as Stella whistles when I step out of my room. “So?”

"It's gonna be great, Emmy," Stella says right as a knock sounds through our suite.

“Oh! I still need to pack.”

My best friend grins. “I took care of it.”

And sure enough, my bag’s sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch.

Sneaky girl.

“Thanks. I think.”

Stella flings herself at me, wrapping me in a hug. "Have so much fun! And remember, I'm only one call away."

"You're the best," I whisper as I head for the door, grabbing my overnight bag and phone along the way.

My heart hopscotches in my chest as I swing the door open. My skin tingles at the mere sight of him. But unlike me, Sterling is the picture of composure, leaned against the doorjamb with his muscled arms crossed over his chest.

"Emmalyn." His eyes light up at the sight of me. "You look gorgeous."

My cheeks burn under his scrutiny. "Thanks."

"You ready?" He reaches for my bag, tugging it from my grasp.

I nod.

"Then let's go."

"Where?" I ask, hoping he'll give in and tell me.

"You'll see.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Sterling

Outwardly, I'm calm and collected; but inside, I'm second-guessing the hell out of the plans I made for us.

For the first ten minutes of the drive, Emmalyn asks questions, trying to get me to slip up and spill the details of our date. But, much to her dismay, my lips are sealed.

Eventually, the mountain view steals her attention as we drive down the winding road toward the valley. "It's just so...beautiful."

"It is," I agree, though in my mind, I'm referring to both her and the view.

Eventually, our initial destination comes into view.

"Are we here?" Emmy asks, a dubious look on her face as she takes in our surroundings.

"What? A little grocery shopping doesn't sound like a good date?"

"Um."

"I'm kidding, baby."

"Oh, good." She laughs, and I kill the engine.

I rush out of the car and around to her side so I can open her door. It's weird, this sudden need I have to take care of her. But at the same time, it feels so natural that I don't question it much.

"This way." I tip my head toward a wooden stairway nestled in the foliage surrounding the lot.

She walks a step ahead of me, and I'd be lying if I didn't say my eyes were glued to her ass the whole way down.

I'm so distracted by the jiggle and sway she's got going on that I almost miss her trying to walk into the pizza place.

"Whoa," I murmur, hooking two fingers through one of her belt loops, dragging her back into me.

"Oh, okay. Not here then."

There's a little whine to her voice, and I can't help but wrap her in my arms. "I know. Mr. T's makes the best pizza, but it's not where we're headed."