Page 57 of For the Record
Coy reached for her sports bra next, followed by her favorite black buttoned short-sleeve dress shirt. She remembered the way Sawyer had looked at her that time she’d gone to dinner with Abi and was eager to see the same expression tonight. Next came her black cargo shorts and red suspenders. Honestly, it was probably the suspenders that had Sawyer doing a double-take. She looked her outfit over, readjusting the dildo until it looked more natural. Still, she hesitated.
“Maybe I shouldn’t wear it.”
Coy worried her bottom lip in thought. Sawyer had made it abundantly clear they were going at her pace, and if she felt Coy packing, then it might spoil their date. The last thing Coy wanted to do was pressure Sawyer and ruin things between them.
“Ugh, why is this so hard?” She sunk onto her bed, grabbing her phone and shooting Naz a text.
Coy: Rethinking this, dude.
Naz: The date or the gear?
Coy: WTF. The gear, obvs. Duh.
Naz: LOL. Am I a mind reader now? Fml.
Naz: Has she ever been with a woman? Might wanna ease into it, if not.
Coy actually had no idea. There was so much she needed to learn about Sawyer. Had Olivier been her only lover? If so, that had to suck.
Sighing, she thanked her friend for the assist before swapping the harness boxers for regular ones. Afterward, she fastened her red bowtie around her neck and her chained wallet to her shorts for the complete look.
Sloane was waiting for her in the hallway, appearing more haggard than Coy had ever seen her. She looked like she hadn’t slept in the days since they’d last spoken. “Coy, hey.”
“Sloane,” Coy said carefully, keeping an eye on her sister as she headed to the entrance to put on her Nikes.
They had never gone this long without speaking. Not even in the tenth grade when Coy had broken Sloane’s boyfriend’s nose because he’d made her cry. She’d spent two days blaming Coy for their breakup—which, you know, good riddance to the bastard—and only forgave her when she saw the loser making out with another girl. Then Sloane got angry.
“You never even asked how my race went,” Sloane said in a dull voice. “You’re never home anymore. If it weren’t for the shop videos you send, I wouldn’t even know you were alive.”
“Erm, that’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Coy narrowed her gaze on her twin. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy, and I could’ve sworn I asked about the race. That was weeks ago. I know J.D. was filling me in at work. You guys came in fifth, right?”
“Yes, and we would’ve come close to winning if that bitch didn’t sabotage my bike. The tires were flat, Coy.”
“J.D. mentioned that.” Coy grimaced. “I’m sorry you lost, and if I wasn’t literally on my way out, you could vent all you want. Raincheck?”Even though you’ve yet to apologize for the bet.
“Oh. I was hoping you’d give me a lift to work.”
Coy sighed impatiently, glancing over Sloane’s outfit. She was dressed in her usual work attire, regardless that she looked like she’d gone on a bender the night before. “What’s wrong with Sara?”
“Oh, I left her at a friend’s place and took an Uber home.”
Well, at least she wasn’t drinking and driving. Technically, Coycouldgive her a lift, considering it was the pub Coy had planned on taking Sawyer. But she wouldn’t have time to drive to Vancouver’s West End and make it back to Sawyer’s before five. She winced, knowing what that meant. She could say no. Sheshouldsay no, especially after the way Sloane had been acting lately. But when had she ever been able to deny her sister anything?
“Okay,” she caved, grimacing at Sloane’s unnecessary air fist pump. “But under one condition. We’re picking Sawyer up first.”
Sawyer pulled open the door just as Coy was revving up to knock, looking so stunning all Coy could do was stare. She wore a forest green, off-the-shoulder top, navy blue denims, and zippered ankle boots. Her hair was down as it usually was, but it looked as if it now had some curl to the strands.
Coy opened her mouth, ready to dish out her first compliment, when Sawyer said, “You’re late. I knew I should have driven myself.”
“I know, I’m sorry. A five-foot-four wrench got thrown into my plans at the last minute,” Coy apologized, reining in her disappointment when Sawyer moved past her before she could attempt to at least kiss her cheek.
Guess this is strike one, dude. Should’ve just come packing, she thought, as her remaining confidence dwindled away. She took a deep breath, jogging to catch up to Sawyer. “So I know you don’t love surprises, but Sloane is currently in my backseat. She needed a ride, and since we’re going to the same place …”
Sawyer stopped and turned, one finely arched eyebrow raised. “The five-foot-four wrench, I presume?”
Coy huffed a laugh, blushing under her watchful gaze. “The very same. Um, can we … are we okay? Again, sorry I didn’t call ahead, Sawyer, but I’m really looking forward to spending the evening with you.”
Sawyer slipped her hand in Coy’s, her eyes softening slightly. “Olivier had terrible excuses.”