13. Dress Casual
Dress Casual
Sam
Dress casual.
She wasn’t really sure what that meant.
Thank goodness for Morgan and Noelle, who had ended up coming over to help her get ready.
She’d asked Q what she should wear tonight, and he’d responded with that direction.
Eventually, they decided on jeans that hugged her curves and a sweater that was tight and low-cut over her boobs and loose around her mid-section.
Noelle did her hair, curling the blonde locks and then brushing them out into loose waves that cascaded around her shoulders.
The makeup was perfect too, not that she expected anything less from Morgan, making her eyes look huge and her lips even poutier than normal without being a full on ‘glam’ look.
“I need to have you two come over to do me up every day,” she joked, peering into the mirror and flipping her hair back and forth.
“You get up too early.” Morgan giggled as she put her brushes away.
“What time do you get up?” Noelle asked.
“Six thirty, so I can get to work on time. Morgan just sleeps too late.”
“Because I work the night shift. Oooh, do you want some glitter on you? We could make your boobs sparkle.”
“Nope, keep that shit away from me.” Sam lifted her hands, crossing her fingers in front of her as if to ward the evil away. She knew Morgan was joking, but she wasn’t taking any chances. “My boobs are already fabulous. They don’t need any sparkle and neither does the rest of my apartment.”
Noelle laughed, sliding out of Sam’s tiny bathroom and giving herself a little shake.
Sam knew how she felt. It was crowded in the small room.
She shifted to the side as well, ceding the room to Morgan while she stood right outside the door, so they weren’t abandoning Morgan to her clean-up, but they also weren’t so cramped.
“Maybe we could do a girls’ night sometime and get ready together?” Noelle asked brightly. “I could do both of your hair, Morgan could do my and Sam’s makeup…”
“I am not as good at doing hair as you are.” Sam reached up to twist one of the curls around her fingers.
She could do basic stuff, but she’d never gotten the hang of curls—which was why Noelle had done them for her.
“I can do like a French twist and a few braids. Do you want your hair up?” She’d noticed that Noelle seemed to wear it down most of the time.
Making a face, Noelle shook her head.
“Well, I can do my own hair then.”
“I would want to do my own makeup, but that sounds like fun,” Morgan said brightly, then glanced at Sam. “No offense, Sam. You’re good at makeup…”
“But you’re better, and I wouldn’t do nearly as good a job on your own makeup. No offense taken.” Sam grinned. No offense taken for the bald truth. Morgan was getting better about not stating things so bluntly, something Sam didn’t comment on since Noelle was there.
If Morgan wanted to ask Noelle to help her figure out how to soften some of her statements, she would. In the meantime, Sam wasn’t going to open up Morgan’s private business in front of someone else.
She also wasn’t going to insist on paying Morgan.
How could she after Morgan had called her ‘best friend?’ Makeup was the kind of thing best friends did for each other.
If Morgan ever needed occasional help from Sam, she knew she wouldn’t charge her, but she was also determined to find some way to show her appreciation.
Finishing cleaning up, Morgan picked up her phone and glanced at the display.
“Oops, time for us to get going. Q should be here soon!” Picking up her makeup case, she made a shooing motion for Sam and Noelle would get out of her way and give her space to get into the hallway.
Nerves rose inside of Sam. Q should be picking her up in about ten minutes. How had the time flown so fast?
This is why I don’t do my hair and makeup every morning… I’d rather sleep than get up even earlier to have the time to do it.
“Have fun!” Morgan said, giving Sam a hug as she passed her.
“Let us know how it goes!” Noelle followed Morgan to the front door. “I want to hear everything!”
“I’ll text you both later.” Having their support made her feel a little less anxious, though the butterflies in her stomach were even more fluttery once they left her all alone. She closed the door behind them, putting her hand over her stomach to quell the sensation. Of course, it didn’t work.
Dammit.
She was a grown woman going on a date, not a teenager going to prom. Even though that’s exactly what Q made her feel like.
Was dating him a smart idea?
Not only did they have a past, even if it had been high school stuff, but they were doing the sub class together, which could also complicate matters.
Sub frenzy, where a submissive became attached to any Dominant who they felt a connection with, was a real thing.
That was why the class usually switched instructors around, which had been easy enough when the entire class had happened to be full of straight male Doms and straight female submissives. That wasn’t the case with this class.
Sam wandered to the mirror by the front door and stared at herself.
She looked like herself but different. Like a grown-up version of herself who was far more put together and far more confident than she actually was. Somehow who knew what she was doing.
Yet she was going on a date with the boy from high school.
A second chance to get it right.
Not that she was sure she’d done the wrong thing when she’d changed her mind about prom, but there was a part of her that still wondered.
The doorbell rang, and she jumped, startled, her cheeks blushing hot with color at her reaction.
Shit! He’s here!
Time to see what happened next.
Q
He’d seen Sam in high school. He’d seen Sam all grown up.
He’d seen Sam in the fetware she wore to Stronghold and Marquis…
but he hadn’t ever quite seen Sam like this.
Casual and comfortable, yet sexy as hell.
While he was really looking forward to one day seeing her completely comfortable, in pajamas with her hair up and no makeup, he had to admit that he really liked this side of her.
“Damn. You look amazing.” His gaze traveled from the soft curls framing her face to eyes that seemed even bigger than usual to her cheeks pink and down to her exposed cleavage, framed by the light blue sweater she was wearing, and the jeans hugging her hips and thighs.
He’d kept his own clothing casual as well, though he’d put a beige jacket on over his “May the (mass x acceleration) be with you” t-shirt to dress himself up a little since it was a date.
Sam’s eyes dropped to the writing on his shirt, and he parted the front of the jacket so that she could see the whole thing, and she laughed.
“Why am I not surprised?” She grinned at him, eyes sparkling with amusement. Their gazes caught and the chemistry between them sizzled in the air. The impulse to step forward and kiss her was strong, but he knew they’d never make it on their date if he did that.
He really wanted to take her on a date.
Dropping the sides of his jacket so they fell back over his chest, he held out his hand.
“Milady.” He bowed his head—not nearly enough to be a full-on bow, but enough to give the impression.
Laughing, she took his hand, and the sizzle between them flared when her fingers touched his.
Attempting to alleviate some of the heat, he turned and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “Your chariot awaits.”
“Is this when you finally tell me where we’re going?”
“And ruin the surprise?” Even as he winked at her, his stomach turned over again with nerves. Hopefully, it would be a good surprise. He really, really, really hoped so.
“Okay then, let’s go.” She blew out a breath.
Q realized that she was just as nervous as he was, which made him feel a little better.
On the way to the restaurant, they chatted about general things—the latest superhero movie, the Lord of the Rings show, finding out all the things they still had in common.
The biggest difference was Q was still immersed in all the media, he had to be for his job, whereas she got to enjoy it as a consumer.
By the time they reached the pub door, with the Trivia sign on the front of it, they had both relaxed. Mostly. There was still tension between them, but Q considered that to be sexual chemistry, not actual tension.
“Oh my God… Trivia night?” Sam’s eyes sparkled when she turned to him, pointing at the sign on the door. She lit up from within and was practically bouncing on her toes, as though too much energy had bubbled up inside her for her to fully contain.
Jackpot. He’d chosen correctly.
“Trivia night,” he confirmed, stepping forward to push open the door.
It didn’t matter that they were a two-person team, they appropriately named themselves One Team to Rule Them All, and they dominated.
The only round they fell down a bit on was the sports round, and even there they held their own since Q collected random trivia in his brain, regardless of the topic, and Sam had a thing for watching the Olympics.
“The final question of the night. Category: Science Fiction Books.” The announcer grinned as several people in the audience groaned.
Q and Sam’s eyes met over their mostly finished plates.
“Isaac Asimov,” they whispered simultaneously, then both erupted into laughter. A nearby table of exceedingly stressed looking forty-sometimes shushed them. Sam put her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. Valiantly, Q swallowed his own laughter.
The other possibility was a Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy reference, but that one had worked its way into pop culture thanks to the movie and now too many people knew the answer to life, the universe, and everything for it to be a good final question for trivia.
Ninety-nine percent of the time, when trivia brought up science fiction, the answer was either Isaac Asimov or his Foundation series.
“What classic science fiction author helped lay the foundation for future science fiction authors and is often known as the Father of Science Fiction?”
Nailed it.
Sam was already scribbling their answer down while Q leaned back and picked up another French fry.
More for something to do than because he was hungry.
This was so much more fun with Sam than anyone else he’d gone with.
His other friends didn’t take trivia as seriously as he did, which was fine, but it took the edge off some of his enjoyment when he couldn’t be competitive.
Or when they scolded him for being ‘too’ competitive.
What was the point in competing if you weren’t trying to win?
But Sam got him. She felt the same way.
The fact that both of them had a hoard of trivia knowledge stowed away in their brains made them one hell of a formidable team.
“Taking this up.” Sam jumped up without a backward glance, making him laugh. She wanted to win just as much as he did. He was pretty sure they had it in the bag, and she was as well, from the way she practically sashayed up to the organizer.
When she turned and headed back to him, she was still bouncing. The table who had shushed them glared at him, but he ignored them. He didn’t need to rub in their loss. Truthfully, Q didn’t want to win to make other people lose… their loss was just a byproduct of his winning.
It felt nice to win with Samantha after all those years as rivals in high school.
He was honest enough to know that part of the reason for their rivalry had been because it was the only way he could get her to pay attention to him.
Something he understood much better now that he knew what had been driving her.
“We’ve so got this,” she said, holding out her hand for him to high five.
Q did so, then used it to pull her over to his side of the table. Laughing, she let him maneuver her so she was sitting in the chair beside him instead of across from him. He slung his arm along the back, feeling the heat of her body against his skin where he’d rolled up his sleeves.
“We’ve definitely got this,” he said, curling his fingers around her shoulder as she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. Suddenly, winning the trivia competition didn’t matter nearly as much as it had a moment ago.