Page 63 of Sugar

I flipped back to the first hanger in my closet.

I needed to find something to wear to my date-that-was-not-a-date with Easton. Not for the first time, Greer’s methods held appeal. I wouldn’t be sharing that with her. If I did, she would throw my entire apartment and life into upheaval while she instituted a new system. I refused to turn my back on my organized chaos.

I just wished my closet had some rhyme or reason rather than shirts mixed in with dresses interspersed with random things that shouldn’t even be taking up hanger space.

Who hung up a torn pajama shirt or bathing suit?

Me, apparently.

While I was making unrealistic wishes, I added one for the perfect dress to magically appear.

I’d thought I had one, but it was nowhere to be found. Either someone had borrowed it, or it was still in my bedroom at home.

Or I’d lost it in a move, laundry day, or drunken shenanigans. Those were also possibilities.

The hows didn’t matter. The pressing issue was finding a replacement.

I grabbed my phone to ask Greer if she was around. Either way, I would be taking the trip three floors up to go shopping in her sorted and categorized closet.

Before I could hit send, a text came through.

Easton: Are you home?

Me: That depends. Are you asking so you can pick me up early?

Easton: No.

Me: Then yes.

Easton: If I’d answered yes?

Me: Then I was in Bermuda.

Easton: That would be a long commute for our dinner.

Easton: But I’m flattered to know you’re so excited that you would lie to get out of seeing me early.

Me: Who said it would be a lie? I’m overdue for a vacation.

Easton: The flattery.

Me: I’m kidding. I’m just nowhere close to being ready.

Easton: I’ll help with that.

Me: Help how?

I stared down at our messages and did my best to not let my libido answer with images of him assisting me in the shower. It wouldn’t be accurate, and it certainly wouldn’t help me survive the night.

My message remained unseen, so I was forced to exit out to message Greer.

Me: Hey, you home?

Greer: Library.

Me: On a SATURDAY?! Nerd.

Me: I’m going up to your apartment to borrow a dress. Cool?

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