A Brush with Love(31)
Dan smiled at her effort. He breathed her in once more, then pulled his head away sharply.
“That’s a shame,” he said, working to hide his smile at the small guttural noise she let out. He moved to disentangle himself from her arms, but Harper clutched at him, stuttering in protest.
Before she could get any words out, a voice cut through their haze.
“There you are,” Indira said, stepping out of the brewery. “We called a ride. Are you—” She stopped in her tracks when she saw them, causing Lizzie to run into her. “Oh, sorry. Let’s … we’ll…” Indira whipped around blindly and crashed back into Lizzie, who was blatantly staring.
“You go, Dental Dan,” Lizzie said in awe as Thu and Alex joined the pack.
Harper dropped her arms and stepped away. Dan fought the instinct to pull her back and tell everyone to fuck off. He liked Harper’s friends, he really did, but they were some of his least favorite people in that moment.
Thu eyed them closely. “Fun night?” she asked, the corner of her lip twitching.
“Yep,” Harper responded, looking at the ground. “You said you called a ride?”
“Yeah, it’s pulling up now,” Indira said, eyes bouncing between Harper and Dan.
Harper nodded and moved toward her friends. Dan caught her hand.
“Hey,” he said, ducking to meet her eyes. “Thank you.”
She blinked up at him, her brow furrowed. “For what? I should thank you. You’re the one who bought the drinks.”
“For talking to me,” he responded, giving her arm a light squeeze. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 13
HARPER
Harper stared at her closet. What the hell did people wear on dates? To a grocery store? As Harper flicked her way through her pitiful wardrobe for the sixty-seventh time, she decided she needed to stop messing around and call in a pro. She reached for her phone and FaceTimed Thu. After a few rings, her friend picked up.
“Hey, dude.”
“Hey. I may or may not be in panic mode,” Harper said, digging through her drawers as she clutched a towel around herself.
“What’s wrong?” Thu asked, rifling through her nail polish bottles, only half listening.
“I have no idea what to wear. What does anyone wear when their closet is ninety percent scrubs? Where do people our age even shop for clothes?”
“Dark web mainly.” Thu propped her phone against the wall, her attention now fully absorbed in painting her toenails.
“I’m serious! Help meeeee,” Harper whined.
“Want to borrow my titty tassels?” Thu asked, not even bothering to look up.
Harper sighed. “You’re useless. Bye.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Thu looked at the camera. “Let’s decide on a vibe. Tell me what you’re going for.”
Harper chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t know. Is dental-student chic a vibe?”
“No. That’s an oxymoron.”
Harper started slowly banging her head against her closet door. She felt nervous and queasy and was about three minutes away from canceling the whole thing.
Last night had been … a lot. She didn’t know how she was expected to see Dan two days in a row and survive it. Plus, she’d been so keyed up by the time she got home that she hadn’t made a dent in her reading for class … Maybe canceling would be for the best.
That chronic nervousness hummed just below her skin, always tempting her to stay home, bury herself in work, maintain impenetrable control of her small world. For Harper, control was always the winning choice over the unknown.
“Harps, you’re making this way too hard. What would you wear to brunch? Or out to dinner with us?”
“I don’t know. Leggings?” Harper couldn’t remember the last time she’d put conscious thought into an outfit. Wearing scrubs every day to school made it easy to forget that actual cute human clothes were a thing.
“Great. Wear leggings.” Thu’s attention returned to painting.
“All my leggings are dirty or have a hole in the crotch.”
Thu snorted. “Even better. Easy access for Dental Dan.”
Harper chose to ignore that one, feeling like they were making progress. Maybe she could do this. “I could wear black underwear to blend over the hole? I’d have panty lines but—”
Thu’s eyes whipped to the phone screen with an appalled look.
“Harper Hannah Horowitz, you are not this clueless. You’re a big girl who knows better than to wear leggings with holes, never mind panty lines”—she shuddered—“on a first date. Use your giant genius brain and wear a normal outfit,” she said, pointing at the camera.
“Squeeze that hot piece of ass into a pair of skinny jeans, put on a bra that pushes your titties up to your neck, find a T-shirt—preferably a dark one because you get sweaty when you’re nervous—and finish it with that biker jacket you stole from me. Then go and take about six shots of whatever alcohol you have and calm the fuck down,” Thu said, glaring at Harper for a solid minute before returning to her toes.
Harper glanced at the time and realized she only had fifteen minutes to finish getting ready. Her stomach squeezed and fluttered. Butterflies didn’t do it justice; it was more like a giant hawk flapping around in there.