Chapter 12
HOLLY
My phone vibrates on the kitchen counter.
Dexter:
I’m coming.
Two words.
That’s all it takes to send a jolt straight through me… and light me up like a Christmas tree.
Me:
Already? That was fast. Try to pace yourself, cowboy.
He’s grinning. I know it.
Oh! He’s typing.
Dexter:
Just a warm-up, cowgirl. You’ll know when it starts.
There’s at least an hour before Dexter is going to show up. Sixty minutes. Gaaaah. I strip, shower, shave (everywhere), and ignore the flutter in my stomach.
I remind myself that there’s no reason to be nervous. It’s Dexter, for God’s sake, not some random guy. Not that I’ve ever hooked up with a random guy.
Once I force myself to eat a dry piece of toast, I am calm.
I am prepared.
I am… going to scream into a pillow before he gets here.
What should I wear? I rush to my closet. This isn’t a date. I don’t have to put on fancy clothes and turn on the charm. Things are going down between us tonight. It’s a sure thing. I’m a sure thing. He’s a sure thing.
Still… I remember what Shelby said, and I slip into my favorite black lacy underwear set (the post-Dean “screw you” lace that makes me feel like sin walking in heels). This might not be a real date, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look good. I throw on my favorite white robe.
I’m just finishing up drying my hair when I hear the front door open.
Shit. He’s here.