Page 53 of Wrench
shaved, and I wrapped a towel around my head and body. ¡°Wear pants,¡± Isaac¡¯s voice
echoed. That really narrowed my choices, living mostly in skirts and sundresses. Why
pants, anyway? He ended the conversation before I could ask, so I guessed I¡¯d just do as
he said¡
Like everything else he told me to do, apparently.
I grabbed a pair of light denim acid wash skinny jeans and began shifting my hangers,
searching for a top. I wanted to be sexy for Isaac, make him crave me, but all my shirts
were boring blouses that would be fit for a librarian. Nothing screamed, ¡°Let¡¯s have
meaningless sex!¡± like I needed it to.
Then, an idea popped in my head and I smiled, licking my teeth mischievously. Thank
God my dad isn¡¯t home, I thought, as I ran to my underwear drawer. There, folded on top
of my underwear, was one of my favorite pieces of sleepwear. A piece I hadn¡¯t worn once
since living at my dad¡¯s in fear of giving him another heart attack. It looked just like a
regular tank top; red silk, lace sweetheart neckline with three small white buttons in the
center, elastic spaghetti straps, and decorated with cute small white polka-dots.
I slid it over my chest and smiled at the result paired with my jeans. The polka-dots, I
felt, lowered the sexiness. A solid red would have been much bolder and more alluring, I
was sure. But damn, was it ever flattering on my figure. All those angry workout sessions
were paying off more than I thought.
Not wanting to waste more time on makeup, I was forced to go the more natural route.
Black mascara swiped on my lashes, a touch of cream coral blush dotted on the apples on
my cheeks, a sheer red lip gloss that tasted like lemonade and, Voila! Perfection, I thought
sarcastically as I scrunched my nose at the lackluster vibe. Suddenly, I heard a strange
motor rumble outside of my house.
Figuring it was Isaac¡¯s old truck, my stomach flipped as I walked down the stairs. It
had been years since I¡¯d been on a date. How was I supposed to act? Sliding on my black
flats, I gulped when the doorbell rang.
Here we go, I thought, as I opened the door.
Even sexier than I remembered, Isaac stood in front of me. He wore aviator sunglasses
that had more of a molasses tint than black, a white sleeveless top which allowed even
