Page 7 of Yes, Love

“Go and spend a romantic day by the water with a gorgeous guy!” they said. “It’ll be fun!” they said.

But the look on Dominic’s face when he came to pick me up for our first date sure as hell didn’t scream, “fun!” He looked like a sullen teenager with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets and a scowl on his face. Or maybe more like an angry toddler in need of a snack. I considered offering him some graham crackers or pretzels.

“Let’s go,” he snapped and turned to head back to his car without waiting for me to get my shoes.

Well, excuse me for not being Lucy Macklemore! I’d spent a few minutes stalking her after the party where Dominic and I faked the hell out of a meet-cute. I only looked at twenty-seven photos of her before I tossed my phone across the room and groaned into my pillow. She was flawless — a natural beauty — and so much taller than me.

I’d made no promises to Lucy or Dominic about getting jealous, so jealousy was coursing wild and free through my veins. Sienna would smack the back of my head and tell me my tits and ass were solid tens and not to give Lucy another thought. She’d also tell me that jealousy was toxic.

I took my sweet time lacing up my gold gladiator sandals, and when Dominic grumbled, “Bloody hell!” from my driveway, I gave him a clear view of my middle finger.

When I finally made my way to his car, a silver Audi, he looked ready to murder me. “What?” I snapped at him. “Not all of us wake up flawless like your precious Lucy!”

Something that looked a lot like heartbreak flashed through his dark eyes, but Dominic said nothing. He backed out of my driveway and remained as cold and silent as a slab of concrete. In his defense, that was probably shitty of me to bring up Lucy. I didn’t do it to rub salt in his wound. If anything, I was rubbing salt in my own jealous wound.

I was two seconds away from apologizing to him when he said, “Don’t. We don’t have to speak to each other when the cameras aren’t watching. I’d prefer that, your highness.”

My mouth dropped open. “Oh, fuck you, Dominic.”

He scoffed, and then we fell into a seething, fuming silence until he pulled into the Pike Place Market parking garage. Dominic killed the engine and took a deep breath as if prepping himself for a hellish day. Then he climbed out of the car and leaned against it, not bothering to open my door for me.

I climbed out of the car and then slammed the door shut. Dominic winced as the force of my action echoed through the dark parking garage. “You trying to break the door, love?” He sneered on the word love.

I shot him a look filled with poison. “Yeah, asshole.” I huffed away, forgetting to sway my hips while I walked. Not that it mattered. Dominic clearly didn’t find me attractive, and no amount of flirting was going to change that.

Why the hell would he find you attractive? You’re basic. You’re boring. You’re ugly.

The onslaught of self-loathing in my head caught me off guard. I thought I had that shit under control. Fuck. “I need to use the bathroom!” I snapped at Dominic and made a sharp left turn toward the public restrooms without waiting for his reply.

A mother and her young daughter stood at the sink, washing their hands. The mother had a kind, makeup-free face and wore her dishwater blonde hair in a single, plain braid. They wouldn’t know who I was — they weren’t my target demographic — but I gave them a bright smile anyway. Who knew? Maybe five-year-olds were into makeup tutorials these days. They smiled back and exited the bathroom just as my first wave of tears forced their way out. The second wave escaped with a sob.

Why are you crying, you weak-ass baby?

The thoughts were usually only a dull hum of self-doubt in the back of my mind, but they were especially loud and brutal today. I wanted to splash some cold water on my face, but that would destroy my makeup, and I needed at least three good photos from this date.

I braced myself against the counter and let out a ragged breath before slowly raising my head to look at my reflection. My mascara and eyeliner had survived the tears, but my foundation would need touching up. Ugh. I should have just used my go-to from IT Cosmetics, but I was test-driving and promoting Tarte’s new formula for a hefty paycheck. I pulled the tube from my bag and unscrewed the shiny purple lid. Next, I grabbed a paper towel and blotted at any remaining moisture on my cheeks before blending two small globs of foundation into my face.

Shit. Now I needed to fix my blush and bronzer, too. “Pull your shit together, Ava. We don’t have time for emotional breakdowns.” I spoke aloud to myself as I finished fixing my look. Once I was satisfied with my repaired face, I let out a deep breath and screwed on my beauty blogger smile. Dominic could be a pissy baby if that were his game, but I was going to be charming.

Yeah, right. Nothing about you is charming. You’re whiny and annoying and worthless.

Right. I would fake my charm, per usual. I pushed open the bathroom door, pretending that my head wasn’t still screaming at me. Dominic leaned against the wall, scrolling through his phone. He looked perfect in his black jeans, white v-neck t-shirt, and black hooded jacket. He’d look even better with Lucy hanging on his arm. I was a sad replacement — the light, fat-free, sugar-free version of a girlfriend.

Lucky for him, none of this was real.

“Okay, let’s go.” I thought I was keeping my voice pleasant and cute, but Dominic’s scowl made me second-guess that.

“Took you long enough, didn’t it? Let’s get this over with.” He extended his arm to me, and I grudgingly took it.

“Right. We need like three or four good pictures in different spots. I’m thinking by the pier, in the middle of the farmer’s market, and then in some cute little café or something.”

“Can we do the café first? I’m hangry.”

I snorted. “Oh, is that what your problem is?” I definitely should have offered him the pretzels back at my house then.

Dominic rolled his dark eyes and kept walking. His stride was ridiculous, so I was practically jogging to keep up. Shit! I was going to get all sweaty, and then my hair was going to frizz up. “Can you slow down?” All the sugary sweetness had melted out of my tone. My charm didn’t even last ten seconds.

Dominic let out an irritated breath and slowed his steps to a snail’s pace.

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