The Way You Make Me Feel(34)

For a second, all that existed was that bouquet of light pink roses. Fragrant, extravagantly wrapped in pink-tinted cellophane, tied together with a thin white grosgrain ribbon.

Then I felt a poke in my arm. I blinked and looked up to see both Rose and Hamlet staring at me.

There was no way. I mean, this was Hamlet. No matter how cute the dude, he was not someone I would date. Like ever. I opened my mouth, ready with some kind of nice but firm rejection, when Rose kicked my ankle, out of Hamlet’s view. Her eyes were threatening to murder me.

Jesus.

Hamlet was starting to sweat. He wiped his forehead with his crisp shirt sleeve. And that little gesture softened something in me.

“Sure.” The word slipped out so easily that I almost gasped. I accepted the bouquet of flowers.

Nervousness instantly gave way to pure sunshine and rainbows. Hamlet grinned, his sharp canines sparkling. “Okay! Awesome! Here’s my number!” He slid a scrap of paper over to me. It was creased and soft, as if it had been sitting in his pocket for a week. “Let me know what day works for you!”

Someone coughed loudly behind him, and Hamlet turned around to see a line of customers. “Oh! Okay, see you guys later!” Then he high-fived the guy behind him and ran off to his coffee cart.

I held the bouquet in my hands and glared at Rose. “Not a word.”

She laughed and started taking orders.





CHAPTER 16

By Saturday afternoon, I had bitten my nails down to nubs. Hamlet and I had agreed to have dinner, and for some reason I was nervous.

Nervous for a date with Hamlet Wong. Like, what was happening, universe? One, I’d been on many dates. No big deal. In my experience, guys hardly took the time to swipe on deodorant, so why in God’s name should we sweat it? I barely bothered shaving my legs.

Two, this was Hamlet. I wasn’t even into the guy. Biggest dork I knew second to Rose, and he’s crushing on me, therefore this date would already begin with my having the upper hand.

And yet.

Because Rose and I had the day off, it was one of my dad’s solo shifts on the truck, and I was whiling the morning away in front of the TV with Flo grooming herself in my lap. Continuing my life’s goal of watching every episode of Supernatural, the show that would not die.

My phone vibrated with a text from Rose: What are you wearing tonight?

I looked down at my sweats cutoffs and black tank covered in Flo’s hair and Doritos crumbs.

Probably what I’m wearing now

I took a selfie with Flo and sent it to her.

Is that the same tank top you wear every single day?

How dare you this is my weekend tank

Isn’t Hamlet taking you somewhere nice? You need to wear something cute for once in your life.

Cat hair necklace doesn’t qualify as cute?

Sure, if you want to die alone.

That pretty much is my dream

I cackled and ate another handful of chips while she took a few seconds to text back.

Do you want help picking out your outfit?

Just say it—you’re bored and need something to do

Actually, I’m wrapping up this meeting for the Future Leaders of Los Angeles and could head over after grabbing some clothes from my house.

Shaking my head, I texted back: Come over then

*

Rose arrived on my doorstep holding an armful of clothes.

“What is all that?” I asked as she stepped inside.

“Clothes befitting a first date,” she said, her voice muffled by the pile in her face. She kicked off her strappy cobalt blue heels and dropped the clothes onto an armchair, making Flo jump.

At the sight of Flo, Rose let out an ungodly squeal and dropped to her knees. “Look at the kitty!” she said in a voice I had never heard come out of her mouth before.

Flo stared at her from under the coffee table, not blinking, her striped tail flicking to the side.

Rose beckoned her with clucking sounds, holding out her fingers. “Come here, kitty!” She glanced up at me, as I stood dumbfounded. “I wish we could have a cat, but my brother’s allergic.”

I watched her as she continued to cluck and make kissy noises. “So clearly this is the first cat you have ever seen in your entire life.”

“Ha-ha.” She stood up reluctantly after Flo made no move to come closer. Instead Flo sat there like a stone, staring at some random spot between Rose and the sofa.

I riffled through the pile of clothes. “Did it ever occur to you that you’re like seven feet taller than me?”

“It did. That’s why it’s mostly dresses.”

I held up a frothy mint green dress with white polka dots on it. “I see. Also, I’m not a cartoon mouse.”

“Listen, anything’s better than your situation right now.” Rose gestured toward me with fluttery hands. “And that dress is super flattering on.”

“I don’t care if it magically gives me a Kardashian butt, this dress isn’t my style.”

Rose grumbled as she pushed me aside to look through the dresses. “You’re incredibly stubborn. It’s fun to be around.” She held up a black dress with lace sleeves. “Try this one.”

I appraised it skeptically. It was short and looked like it would be super tight around my thighs. I didn’t mind my body, liked it in fact, but I also knew that I didn’t want to spend all night worrying about thigh bondage.