Page 29 of Bad at Love
“Marina!?” I hear from the other side of the door, panicked, and before I can tell him I’m okay, the door opens.
I really need to start locking it when I’m home.
“Jesus,” he says, crouching down beside me, hand on my back. “Are you hurt?”
“I wasn’t until you stepped in,” I mumble, giving him a sheepish look through my hair. “And it’s only my pride.”
“Here,” he says, grabbing my arms and pulling me up to my feet like I weigh nothing at all. Well, almost to my feet. One of the shoes is on the step.
“Wow,” he says as he looks me over.
“Hot mess express, right?” I say as I hobble over to thestairs and pick up my heel. On second thought, I’m putting on a pair of flats.
“Perhaps those shoes do need some more practice. But you’re just the hot part, not the mess.”
I give him a wry grin as I pull the other heel off my foot. I immediately feel grounded. Can I just go on the date in bare feet? I mean, it is LA.
“Hot?” I repeat, secretly tickled pink he said that. No, tickled red. My face is hot and flushed.
“You look…” He trails off, still looking me up and down. “Gorgeous.”
A thrill runs through me. “Really?”
He nods, eyes fixed on my breasts, then my lips. He swallows. “Yes. Do you always look like this on your dates?”
“Actually, no.”
A look of surprise comes over his eyes. “So, you did this just for me?”
Oh fuck. Ididdo this just for him.
“No,” I lie. “I did it for Carl McNaughty.”
He grins his movie-star handsome smile and it hits my heart like an arrow. “Well, you’re in luck baby, because Carl McNaughty is here.”
I cross my arms playfully. “I don’t know, you still look an awful lot like Lazarus Scott, Insta Poet.”
Okay, he is a little more dressed up than usual. Slim black pants instead of jeans. Charcoal grey dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the collar undone. The leather jacket and boots stay the same. His hair is artfully messy, the kind of hair you want to run your hands through. His brows are dark and low, elegantly arched which always makes him seem moodier than he actually is. He’s taken his eyebrow ring out.
I point to it. “Your ring.”
“Carl McNaughty wouldn’t wear it on a first date. He’d say it’s too nineties.”
I bite back a smile. “Is this how you are on all first dates or is it just for me?”
He smirks and offers me his arm. “Come on, let’s get this show on the road.”
I stare at his arm. “You know, it’s the first date and a guy wouldn’t be offering his arm like this to a stranger.”
He gives me a dead stare.
“How about you go outside and start over again?” I say, pushing him toward the door.
“Promise me you won’t fall?”
“Shut up.”
He goes outside and I shut the door on him and wait.
