Page 11 of Getting Lucky Number Seven

Whitney poked her head in. “You ready for me?”

“Yeah. Thanks again for helping me.” First step of letting go a little was recruiting my roommate to do my makeup. I’d watched a few tutorials, figuring I was nothing if not a fast learner, but my technique still needed work, and tonight was too important to mess up.

“Anytime.” Whitney sat across from me, took out her makeup brushes, and got to work swiping liquids and powders across my skin, hopefully taking away the last traces of the girl who was too afraid to let loose. “You’ve got great cheekbones, and just wait until I get done with your eyes. They’re totes gonna pop.”

I wrinkled my nose. “That sounds oozy.”

She laughed and directed me to look up. As she swiped the mascara wand across my lashes, I asked, “How was bowling the other night? Are you and Matt a thing now?”

Whitney sighed and returned the mascara wand to its tube. “We haven’t hadthe talkabout our relationship. Like I’m hoping that he’s only dating me, but I don’t want to be the girl who asks, because guys always read it as needy or too serious, and I don’t want to mess things up, you know?”

No, I didn’t really know. The bottom of my stomach dropped out. Having a steady boyfriend through most of high school hadn’t prepared me for all these new college dating rules. If Whitney thought she was going to mess things up, I was going to do nuclear damage when I tried.

Good thing I’m not looking for anything serious right now. Hopefully there are fewer rules involved with being flirty and free.

Whitney applied lipstick to my lips, then handed me a tissue and instructed me to kiss it. She then slicked on another smooth layer that smelled like bubble gum before sitting back, a satisfied expression on her face. “You look amazing. Take a peek.”

I stood and opened my closet door. The girl in the mirror with the dressy black shorts—to keep from flashing everyone in case of keg stand—and purple, low-cut top that complimented her new fiery hair color was bold. Fearless. Her makeup was flawless, with shiny nude-colored lips, shimmery silver lids, and black cat-eye liner that did, in fact, make her eyes pop. Even better, she didn’t look likeanykind of nerd.

“Wow, Whit. You do good work.”

Whitney’s reflection showed up next to mine, a big smile stretched across her lips. “It’s easy when I’ve got a pretty canvas to work with.”

Warmth filled my chest. I didn’t have any close girlfriends, so maybe that’s why I didn’t realize she was one till now. I turned and hugged her, and she squeezed me back.

“Good luck tonight,” Whitney said. “Have fun. Meet lots of hot guys. Tell me all about it tomorrow.”

“I will. Unless you wanna come?”

“Nah, I’ve got plans with Matt. If he’s with me every night that means he’s not dating anyone else, right?”

“Sounds like a logical conclusion to me.”

She gave me a hope-filled smile and then gathered up her makeup and left my room. Beck texted to say he was in the parking lot as I was adding another spritz of perfume, and I moved over to my desk to close my laptop. I hesitated, reading my first few list items.

Maybe I’ll save the making out with a beautiful stranger for later.Of course, the drinking would probably help the nerves bouncing around in my stomach. I hoped. And I probably wouldn’t look this pretty ever again, not to mention my timetable got shorter by the day, and I planned on adding a few more things to the list before I’d feel like it was complete.Okay, I’ll do it tonight.

I took a deep breath to combat the anxiety gnawing my insides, stepped into black strappy heels that were sexy but not so easy to walk in, and paused at my doorway.

Was I really going to go somewhere dressed like this? I fought my instinct to look down and think about how much skin I was currently exposing and told myself once again that I could be bold. I could party with reckless abandon the way the rest of my peers did.

No letting fear get the best of you. Remember, rapid changes take catalysts.

I lifted my chin and made my way downstairs, careful not to step on the left side of the stairs where the ice rarely melted since it was forever in shade. My palms were so sweaty by the time I got to Beck’s Land Rover that it took me two tries to open the door—so the sexy was already happening.

I slid into the passenger seat and turned to Beck, waiting for him to laugh at me and tell me to go change. His attention was on his phone, though, the brim of his black and yellow Bruins cap blocking my view of his face. But then he finally glanced over at me.

And did a double take.

My face flushed as he ran his gaze down my body and all the way back up. “Damn, Lyla. That’s what you’ve been hiding under those scarves and long skirts?”

I shrugged, because how else do you respond to a question like that? I reached down and messed with the ankle strap of my shoes. “Is it okay, then? I feel…naked.” When he didn’t say anything, I turned my face toward him, shaking my bangs out of my eyes.

Beck shifted into reverse and backed out of the parking spot. “You’re good. And I like the hair.”

Good?Likethe hair?Those words seemed so mediocre, especially compared to how I felt. My bangs fell in my eyes again and I swept them away, fighting the urge to gather the rest of my hair into a bun. “Please tell me it’s at least an improvement.”

Beck slowed the SUV, stopping just short of exiting the parking lot. Then he turned his eyes on me—were they darker than usual? I swore they were, but it must’ve been a trick of the light. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and there was something mesmerizing about the motion.

---