Page 82 of Love Marks
Me too. Is it weird for me to ask what to wear? I don’t want to be overdressed.
I stare at the screen, feeling like an idiot. It’s probably not very smooth of me to ask, but I’d rather feel embarrassed now than show up in the wrong thing later. I clean up the kitchen while I wait for a response that finally comes a few minutes later.
Whatever you wear will be perfect. But since I know that’s a non-answer…semi-formal?
I smile down at the words, hearing his smirk in them. Semi-formal? So jeans are out, I guess. Another text buzzes.
A cocktail dress. Something I can peel off you easily ;)
A blush grows on my cheeks, and I bite my lip to stamp out the smile growing at his promise. I type out a quick response and check the oven, but the muffins still need more time. I wipe my hands off and almost skip to my closet to search through my clothes. I only really have one dress that will suffice. Almost all of my clothes are thrifted, but I have a few dresses leftover from my time at The Phoenix.
The oven beeps and I take out the muffins and leave them on the counter. Waiting for them to cool, I take out my phone and dial an unexpected number.
“Hello?” Hannah’s bright voice rings out from the other line.
I trudge through my anxiety at even making this call. “Hey, Hannah. It’s Quinn.” I pause. Should I say my last name? “Quinn Taylor, from the other night, and from the hospital—”
“Quinn, hey! What’s up? Did you get home alright the other night?”
I switch the phone to my other ear. “Yeah, totally fine.” Oh god, this is so weird. “Listen, I was wondering if you have plans tonight?”
“No plans. Just a tentative date with my Netflix account.”
I chuckle at that and take a deep breath. “Well, I was wondering if you wanted to come over. I could use some fashion advice and some girl talk, to be honest.”
“Where do you live? I’m not commuting to Bushwick, sorry.”
I smirk. “I’m in South Slope.”
“Sweet, I’m in Prospect Heights. Text me your address and what time to come. I’ll see you later!”
Before I can reply, she hangs up. Despite the abruptness, I can’t help the smile spreading across my face. Who would’ve thought that Wine Night with Hannah would make me this excited? I guess I’ve been needing a friend more than I realized. Maybe expanding my life beyond just work and my mom is a good idea.
A few hours and three muffins later, Hannah texts to let me know she’s on the way to my place. I clean up my room since it’s kind of a mess and light some candles, feeling suddenly self-conscious about having a new friend over. My stomach clenches nervously.
The buzzer goes off and I let her up, glancing down at my sweats and stained Yankees sweatshirt. Should I have changed into something nicer? Why didn’t I think of this until this exact moment?
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts and I answer it.
“Hey!”
Hannah smiles and lifts two bottles of red wine, stepping past me easily.
“The store had a deal if you got two, so we’re getting drunk I guess.” She shrugs her coat off and glances around.
“Welcome. This is my apartment,” I say, gesturing out at the small room that is basically the whole place. She nods and moves towards the kitchen. She starts opening drawers, searching.
“By all means, make yourself at home.” I smirk, leaning against the wall.
She shoots a smile back at me. “Bottle opener?”
“To your left.”
She waves it around like a madwoman, turning to face me directly. “So, what’s this womanly advice you so desperately need?”
“I think that conversation might require wine first.” I hope she can’t tell how I’m suddenly stalling about talking about Wesley. He doesn’t feel real. Our whole situation doesn’t really, so it’s strange to talk about. “How was your day?”
She rolls her eyes. “Budget cuts mean I have to share an office now. Which would be whatever, except that Terry is the most annoying person possibly ever. He eats tuna every day. Every day, Quinn.” She gives me the most serious expression that I can’t help but bark out a laugh.