“Well, I did find my phone so I thought I would give you a call and ask you if you had plans.” Did I just say that? I was either a brave, brave girl or a very stupid, stupid girl. My palms were sweating.
“Yeah? I’m so glad that you called.” I could hear the smile in his voice. He sounded ridiculously sexy. “So where would you want to go? Anywhere is fine with me…you choose. Oh, and don’t worry about cost. It’s my treat.”
“Are you thinking casual, or fancy, or… I don’t know.” I crossed my fingers that he would say casual. I so did not have proper manners for some place that involved fancy napkins and waiters who wore suits.
“Tell you what. How about I pick you up? And be sure you have on a nice dress. I’ll surprise you.”
“I think I could handle that.” Oh, god. What? I slapped myself on the forehead. No! I can’t handle that! Fuck me, what have I gotten myself into? “But maybe a skirt? I’m not a dress kind of girl.”
“Really? Hmm… I bet you would look amazing in a dress,” he said in a rather interesting tone. I blushed. I was losing it.
“Thanks,” I shyly said.
“How about I pick you up around five-thirty, and we can stop somewhere and have a quick drink first?”
“Sounds good. I live down at Westerfields in three-ten.”
“Alright. I know where that is. I’ll see you then.”
“Okay. ‘Bye.”
“‘Bye.”
He hung up the phone. I just about died. I could not believe that a man of his caliber would even look at me. If he could have seen me in that moment, all sweaty and gross, he would have passed on me for sure.
I called my best friend, Claire. I had to see if she had a dress that I could borrow because the only dress I had was from my senior prom. I was pretty sure that wasn’t what Henry was looking for when he said a “nice dress”.
As soon as I made it home, I jumped right into the shower. I washed and shaved everything twice. I wanted to make sure I felt worthy to be around him because I had no idea why he would want to take me out. I wasn’t some ‘blonde Barbie, tight dress wearing, give you a blow job on the first date’ kind of girl. Claire had already let herself in while I was in the shower, and laid out an abundance of dresses on my bed. She matched up my shoes to them.
After an hour of trying on outfits and chewing my thumbnail while staring in the mirror, I ended up going with a basic black dress she picked up at Neiman Marcus a few weeks prior. It was cap sleeved, belted, and had pockets. I put on my strappy, black wedge-heeled shoes which, ironically, were purchased the same day that Claire bought the dress.
After I dressed, Claire flat ironed my hair, and twisted it up into a clip. She put a little make-up on me. I was so nervous my teeth were chattering. “Geez, Elaina. I don’t think I have ever seen you this nervous over a guy. Ever.”
We walked out to my slightly unorganized living room. “For real. Stay here and meet him. Trust me when I say that he is knee-buckling gorgeous. I still can’t believe that he wants to take me to dinner.”
“Oh, stop, you nut! You are gorgeous.” I rolled my eyes.
I looked at my watch to check the time, and it was five-thirty on the button. I heard a light knock on my door. I looked at Claire and mouthed, Oh, my fucking god.
“Go calm yourself in your room. I will answer the door.” I bolted to my room just before Claire made it to the door. I listened intently while I adjusted everything that had already been adjusted ten times over, reapplied lip gloss that didn’t need it, and prayed that I wouldn’t fuck up somehow.
***
After the gym, Henry spent the rest of the day nerve-wracked, flitting around work like an absent-minded fool. He made sure to suck down a couple fresh vials so he would be a little jacked-up for his date. Once he was able to skate out of there, he hit every single red light there could have possibly been. He kept checking his Omega, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, pushing his hands through his messed up hair, all while trying to keep his cool. He didn’t want to be late, for fear that she would think he was standing her up.
Henry pulled up to the side of his building and parked his truck. He made a mad dash for the front door, waved at the doorman, and pushed the up button on the elevator about ten times before the door opened.
The elevator ride took an eternity. When the door finally slid open, he ran to his apartment door. His hands shook as he was trying to unlock it. He ran to his fridge, opened it to check for the injection, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was in the usual resting place. He slammed it shut, opened the cabinet, and grabbed a bottle of Walkers. Bottle in hand, he walked through his bedroom to his bathroom so he could hit the shower. He stripped and, while he waited for it to warm up, he reacquainted himself with Mr. Walker.