Page 84 of Bloom

Roberto looks unsure. “So the large cowboy who joined you last time?”

The...

Oh.

“Oh, no.” I shake my head hard enough to give myself whiplash. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Ah.” His grin is all teeth, completely dazzling. “I'm glad to hear that.”

“You are?”

“Well, it makes it easier for me to ask you out.”

I choke on... nothing. Literally nothing. Not even air because I'm sure I stop breathing. I splutter wildly, barely managing to get out,“What?”

Roberto doesn't seem at all put out by my fit. In fact, it seems to amuse him. “Would you like to go to dinner with me, Caroline?”

An instinctual rush of panic curls in my gut, and I chastise myself for it. This was the plan, right? This is what I came here for—to score a date. To take Lux’s, Luna’s, freaking everyone’s advice. Even better, he did my job for me, since I’m not the one doing the asking.

This is good, I tell myself, except it seems to be Lux's voice echoing around in my head. It's definitely Lux's influence that straightens my spine, steadies me, guides my head up and down in a nod.

“Magnifico.”The enthusiasm in his tone makes me jump. His eagerness leaves me kind of shell-shocked, and I blink at him silently as he rattles off details, asking if I've heard of some restaurant a couple of towns over. In my slightly dazed state, I find myself agreeing to have dinner there on Saturday night.

ThisSaturday. Mere days away. Not the nice, comfortable, lengthy week or so I'd planned to leave myself for preparation.

Yeah, I'm definitely going to be sick.

25

Never in his life has he felt anything as painful, as potent, as the red hot jealousy choking him.

“Stop fidgeting.”Lux narrows her eyes as she readjusts the piping hot curling iron poised dangerously close to my neck. “Unless you want a pretty little brand for your date.”

Stilling my incessant squirming, I offer a sheepish apology. “Sorry.”

“Relax. It’ll be fun.”

I bark a nervous laugh—funis the last word I would use to describe the upcoming night.

Nerve-wracking. Nauseating. Sweat-inducing.

Mistake.

Those feel much more accurate.

Winding a strand of my hair around the curling iron, Lux uses it to tug my gaze upwards. When I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror opposite, I sigh—I’m really not hiding my nerves very well, even with Lux’s best efforts to doll me up.No amount of careful primping can hide the utterly frightened look in my eyes.

Sitting cross-legged on Lux’s bedroom floor with her kneeling behind me, her makeup strewn haphazardly around us, I look like a little girl playing dress up with her mommy. Or like a fragile, porcelain doll, one wrong move away from shattering.

“Enough,” Lux scolds gently, reading my mind. Switching off the curler and setting it down, she runs her fingers through my freshly styled hair—a comfort I close my eyes to soak in. “You look beautiful.”

A touch of an exaggeration, but I thank her anyway. I do look pretty, I guess. Lux was careful to keep it natural—a good thing, considering I’m likely to sweat or—and—cry her hard work off before the date even begins. With her help, I spent half the day frantically picking out an outfit before we settled on one of my nicer dresses, one with a little more structure in the bodice, a little more flair in the skirt, a little more extravagance in the intricate flowers embroidered on the fabric.

It felt like the right choice at the time, but now that I’m wearing it, clambering to my feet and watching it swish high around my thighs and cling to my chest, imagining how Roberto might react when he sees me in it… Well, I’m not entirely sure how I feel.

It’s hard to feel anything other than the nerves roiling my gut.

God, what am Ithinking?

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