Festive Fake

21 - Well, what do you think?

Andre would arrive any second, yet there I stood, staring at the mirror, wearing only underclothes, wanting to be bold, but not really sure I had it in me.

When I acted like the problem was this being a second date, I'd been lying to Laurel and myself. That didn't matter. If this was our tenth or fiftieth date, I'd still be hesitant. The real problem was me.

I'd never been one to initiate intimacy because of the nerve-wracking possibility of rejection. The longest relationship I'd ever been in ended with him cheating and marrying my cousin, and nobody else I'd dated had done anything to help repair that blow to my ego. Plus, Mother pointed out my flaws often enough that she'd become the voice in my head judging me.

According to her, my makeup was either too thick or there wasn't enough coverage. I was too thin until I hit my twenties and then became too curvy. Ash blonde had been too light for my coloring, but auburn was too dark. She was the Goldilocks of my appearance, and nothing was ever just right.

But I told her I was happy, and that was true. So why was I still doing this? I scanned my reflection—smooth skin with light makeup surrounded by soft hair the shade of auburn I preferred. Backing up, I twisted to see every angle, and found nothing wrong.

It was time to do what I wanted without letting hypercritical, toxic thoughts dictate my life. I stood a little taller. This was the new me—someone with the confidence to be daring.

Until the doorbell rang, and the woman in the mirror reacted like a startled animal—wide eyes and ready to bolt. I spun toward the closet, prepared to throw on anything, but stopped. I filled my mind with Andre and how beautiful he made me feel, and forced my feet to carry me toward the foyer.

At the last second, a flood of nerves caused me to grab my dark green, thigh length jacket from the stand beside the entrance. It only tied at the waist, so I wrapped it around and crossed my arms to hold it shut. If I chickened out, I could say I needed a minute, then run to my room and dress.

I opened the door and found Andre staring at the ground, chewing his lip. He looked up automatically, then paused. His gaze traveled over me, from my bare legs all the way up, slowing in areas that sent shivers through me.

"Wow. You're stunning in that color."

"Thank you. You look good too." Jeans, black shirt, and a brown jacket was the most casual outfit I'd seen him in and he was just as handsome as he'd been in his dressier clothes.

"Listen." He scuffed his boot over the ground and shoved his hands in his pockets. My stomach sank, and I held the material covering me tighter.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, I—" He stopped, took a deep breath. "I hope you don't think we're moving too fast. I lost you once and I don't want that to happen again. But if you're not ready to be exclusive, we can go slower. There's no pressure."

"You were making me anxious." Relief made me giggle. "But I feel the same way."

He sighed. "Good." Reaching beside the door, he retrieved a bouquet of white lilies and sunflowers, and gave them to me with a smirk.

"Aww, they're beautiful. You didn't have to, but thank you."

"You're welcome. Should I put them in something while you grab your shoes?"

If I had my way, I wouldn't be needing shoes. Warmth started in my chest and spread through me. I was grateful for the dim lighting, as there was a good chance my entire body had blushed pink.

"If it's okay with you, I was thinking we might just stay in?"

"Yeah?"

I let him into the foyer, but didn't know what to say. I wondered how Laurel would handle this and huffed. My confidence might've been on the rise, but it was nowhere near Laurel levels.