Page 28 of Play By The Rules
“HowdoIlook?”I ask Betty, stepping out of my bedroom and fiddling with the back of my gold hoop earring. She turns to look at me, her eyes widening as she lets out a low whistle.
“Damn, Fal, who knew you were hiding that under all those baggy clothes and leggings you wear.”
Rolling my eyes, I grab my little clutch bag, shoving my phone and some cash in before tossing it on the couch. It’s hardly the first time she’s seen me dressed in something tight, and it’s far demurer than anything she ever picks out for me. But being the good best friend she is, she never lets me forget that she believes I’m banging.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look halfway decent tonight. I might not want to go on this date, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make an effort, considering it’s my first one ever.
The black wide-legged jumpsuit I’m wearing falls into a deep v on my chest, showcasing more than a little cleavage, and the waist is cinched, accentuating my hourglass figure.
“You know, I’d kill for your body,” Betty says wistfully, running her gaze over the length of me. It’s not the first time she’s made the comment, and I often struggle to not tell her I’d happily swap.
I’m not a skinny girl at a size sixteen, but I try not to hate my body most of the time. Though it can be difficult when your size eight friend comments.
“Please, your body is incredible.”
“Well obviously,” she agrees, fluffing her hair out of her face. “But so is yours, and in that outfit, wow. You’re going to have Adam drooling the minute you open the door. And you’re even wearing heels. I’m proud of you, Fal.”
I glance down at the strappy black heels I found burrowed into the back of my wardrobe I didn’t even know I owned. My toes are already pinching in them, but I will suck it up. “What time is it?”
“Just before six, what time is he coming for you?”
“Not until half past,” I tell her, pushing my curled hair over one shoulder so I can put in the second earring. “I’m going to have a drink before he comes, since I’m not driving.”
She hops off the couch, joining me in the kitchen, and grabs two wine glasses while I work the cork from a bottle of rosé. I pour us both a generous amount before swallowing half of mine in one go.
I’m not sure why I’m so nervous about tonight. Sure, it’s my first date, but I’m not attracted to Adam enough to care about making a good impression. Yet there’s a weight sitting in my stomach making me feel nauseous.
“It’s going to be fine,” Betty tells me when I finish the glass and quickly pour another. “You’re just going to have dinner and a few drinks. Chat a little, hang out. That’s it.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Yes.” She laughs, squeezing my arm. “But you’ll be fine. I promise. And I’ve been working on my excuses if you need a quick escape anyway. How does ‘Noah fell down the stairs and broke his leg in three places’ sound?”
A laugh bursts out of me, relieving the tension in my muscles. “Perfect, thanks.”
She winks at me, smiling widely before telling me all the other excuses she has hidden up her sleeve. By the time the knock sounds on our door, I’m feeling marginally better and less sick, thanks to my friend.
I grab my bag and give her a quick hug before opening the door.
A smiling Adam stares back at me, dressed in a blue shirt and dark denim jeans. He has an easy smile, and the blue in eyes seems kind today, not the weird way he was looking at me the other day. Though, I could be only thinking that due to the bottle and a half of wine Betty and I polished off in the last thirty minutes.
That’s probably also why when he links his hand through mind, threading our fingers together, I let him.
“You look gorgeous, Fallon.”
“That was fucking marvellous as always,” Gage tells my mum, rubbing his stomach. She doesn’t bother chastising him for his language; she’s given up on that front with us. “Is there any left over? I’m about ready for seconds and thirds.”
“How you boys can eat so much, I’ll never know.”
“We’re growing boys, Jenny. Need our sustenance.” He squeals like a little bitch when she whacks him on the head with the tea towel in her hand. Dad sits on the end of the table with a smile on his face. He stands, dropping a kiss on Mum’s mouth when he passes.
“Do you two always have to give PDA?” My brother George groans, rushing out of the room. He’s four years younger than me and a little shit most of the time. “It’s gross.”
Neither of my parents pay him any mind, they just laugh at his retreating form. Watching your mum and dad make out isn’t anyone’s idea of a good time, but you get used to it. They’ve been together for thirty-two years, married for thirty of those, and are somehow still sickeningly in love.
“Right,” Mum says, placing her hands on her hips and staring down at Gage and me. He’s too busy tucking into yet another plate of lasagne to notice. “Do you both have your suits sorted for tomorrow?”
“Yep,” I tell her, pushing off the table and coming around to stand with her. “We’re all good. Just got to pick them up from the dry cleaners.”