"We are not watching Pride and prejudice."
"You said I could choose," I stated, arms across my chest as I sat on our blue sofa next to Liza. She was currently flicking through Netflix, refusing to relinquish control of the TV remote.
"Well as per usual, you picked wrong. I'm starting to question your judgement."
"Haha. I thought we weren't supposed to be talking about Bryon."
"I never said his name. But the fact that you instantly related him to your poor judgement speaks volumes."
"Well I'm still your best friend, aren't I? That alone should tell you I'm a poor judge of character."
"So a pattern is emerging. Noted."
"Anyway, I'm not going to even message Bryon. You're right he doesn't deserve it. But I'm a fixer, you know this. I have this stupid need to make things better for everyone, even if that means making it worse for myself," I breathed out, feeling the tears start to well in my eyes despite not even feeling that sad, more frustrated. Bryon and I were broken and whilst he had been the one to do it, I seemed to be the only one with the urge to fix it.
"I know," Liza replied, pulling me into a hug, "and that's what makes everyone love you. You make everything better. Bryon might have just realized that fact, seeing you today because you know, he can be a little slow. But at some point, you have to stop trying to fix others whilst breaking yourself."
"Thanks," I whimpered, wiping at the tears that fell without choice.
"Now to the important decision at hand. It's still your pick obviously but it's now between Ghost or Beastly."
I rolled my eyes, not missing the fact that both her choices were paranormal romance. Rapunzel had been more subtle when she hit Ryder in the face with a frying pan.
"Neither. I want romance, not weird supernatural infatuation. I'm not some teen craving a vampire fix."
"Neither of these have vampires."
"You're missing my point."
"That's because you haven't got one."
"Oh god. Why don't you just pick," I huffed, knowing that had been her plan all along. Her eyes immediately twinkled, wasting no time in clicking on Beastly.
"I thought you would never ask."
Five hours later, I was almost ready for my date and not going to lie, I felt sick. It didn't help that the evening itself felt like grains of sand in an hourglass, slowly trickling down. My hands kept smoothing at my jeans, the sweat making them feel slimy.
Caine hadn't messaged since the agreed date, although he didn't exactly have any need to, whilst Bryon's message had spun round and round in my mind as if a scratched cd, unable to move forward.
8:04 pm flashed angrily on my bedside alarm clock and I took yet another look in the mirror. I looked great, the silvery grey lace blouse drifted softly over my skin, fitting my curves beautifully. My dark blue jeans continued the silhouette the blouse had started and Liza had been right, the heels blended the entire outfit together perfectly. My blonde hair fell in curls framing my face, for once behaving themselves and the smoky eyeshadow made my blue eyes sparkle brighter.
"Holy shit," Liza's voice pulled me from the mirror as I turned to face her, a hesitant smile on my face.
"Do I look alright?"
"You look amazing! Caine won't even remember the lace nightie the second he sees you," she replied, making my stomach drop out instantly. I had almost forgotten about the poor choices that had preceded this date. What if that's all he remembered? What if that's the only reason he wanted to have this date?
"Fuck. Maybe I should cancel?"
"Don't you dare. I meant you look so gorgeous, that's all he will be thinking about. The Rory that's in front of him," she smiled, rubbing the bare skin on my arms.
"Now let's get going," Liza continued as I raised an eyebrow.
"You're not coming with. I'm 25, I don't need a chaperone."
"I'm just going to drop you off. To make sure he's not a murderer."
"Oh right, because you will be able to tell that by looking at him for all of 5 seconds. And that's if he is even there."
"He'll be there and no of course I can't but I can give an accurate sketch to the police if he murders you," she winked before turning and exiting my bedroom, effectively ending the conversation.
"You will not get out of the car. Promise me."
"I won't. I promise. I'll even wear my fluffies," she reassured, slipping on her slippers as she went to leave the flat. I quickly realised there was no point in arguing, l never won anyway. So I grabbed my black jacket with the silver buttons along with my purse and followed Liza right out the door.
When we pulled up near the Twilight bar my nerves kicked up a notch, sweaty palms, hummingbird heartbeat, the lot of it. I made no motion to leave the car, instead fixated on the absolutely stunning man currently standing just outside its entrance. I couldn't really see him clearly through the car window and the darkness, he was dimly lit, kind of like his profile picture. But what I could see made my tongue feel heavy in my mouth and my feet feel like bricks. I half feared that if I tried to stand at that moment I'd snap an ankle, that's how unsteady I felt just from looking at him.
"Fuck," I breathed, rubbing my hands for the tenth time on my thighs," I can't do this Liza."
Liza flicked her gaze over to me, her hand reaching out across the gearstick to grab mine, giving it a firm squeeze.
"You bloody well can."
"Look at him, Liza. Seriously. Look at him," I urged, trying to make her see what I was.
She reached across and flicked the sun visor down, pulling my gaze towards it and away from Caine.
"Look at her. Go on. Look at her. She is absolutely beautiful and will make Caine melt into a puddle on the street. I don't need to look at him, because I'm looking at her," she replied, pointing her finger at my face so it reflected in the mirror as I stared. A smile pulled at my lips, my nerves settling a little as my other hand took hold of the door handle.
"Ok," I breathed, trying hard to focus and believe in Liza's words," love you."
"You had fucking better. Love you too. Call me if you need the taxi a la Liza," she joked, tipping her head forward as if she were wearing a captain's hat.
"Don't call it that," I said, trying hard to keep the laughter from my voice.
"The lizinator? The Liza mobile? No? Come on the Liza mobile has a great ring to it."
"Still no."
"Fine. The Liza Lovecraft? Can rent it for a few hours if you like so I don't have to sit through a re-run of Rory the tiger."
"I'm leaving now," I stated, forcing my feet to actually exit the car. As I closed it, I briefly glanced back through the window, blowing a kiss to my best friend. She had both thumbs up, a cheesy grin on her face as she waited for me to turn away.
"Ok. I've got this," I mumbled to myself before I stood up straight and prepared to meet Caine in person for the first time.
As I walked towards him I focused my gaze on the floor by my feet, begging them to stay firm beneath me. The hot heels were gorgeous but fuck me were they high and I was starting to feel like a drunk cat on stilts.
The closer I got to him, the harder it was not to look up. When I could see the steps to the bar in my peripheral vision, I flicked my gaze upwards, colliding with his. I smiled, praying it came across as a soft, gentle one that danced across my lips and not a grimace that was better suited to a killer clown.
"Hi," I breathed, coming to a stop in front of him. He smiled, pushing off the wall so he stood atleast a foot above me, even in the heels. My eyes swept over him as he stood, travelling down his torso that was barely contained in a crisp, white t-shirt, a black leather jacket encasing the rest of his arms and upper body. He had dark blue jeans on, a similar colour to mine that fell loosely on his hips, thankfully not skin tight like I'd seen some men wear lately. But Jesus Christ, Caine was unbelievably handsome, especially up close. And sexy. And hot. Singularly, any and all comments of his hotness didn't seem to accurately describe the man standing before me, so they all seemed to scramble into a giant ball of words in my mind whilst I continued to stare.
"Hi," he replied, his eyes igniting playfully when he realised I was taking him all in. I was pretty sure in my bio I'd stated a medium hotness sort of person, not quite gates of hell but not warm bathwater either. Caine in all fairness definitely shouldn't have responded, gates of hell seemed lukewarm compared to him.
"I'm Rory," I said when I realised how long I'd been staring, the silence suddenly feeling incredibly loud despite being in the street. I shoved my hand out clumsily towards him like this was a job interview, his face morphing with humour as he clearly tried to contain his laughter. He took my hand softly, the warmth of his palm sending tingles up my arm and I shuddered from the sensation.
"It's very nice to meet you, Rory," he continued and I quickly realised he hadn't confirmed he was Caine. Panic started to claw at me, my eyes darting around as I looked for anyone else waiting close by.
"You're Caine right?" I blurted out, worry evident in my tone. I watched as the corners of his mouth twitched, slightly parting as if he would answer but closing again instead.
"No," he stated after a fair few seconds, holding my gaze the entire time. The panic twisted inside of me as I pulled my hand forcefully from his, sending me stumbling backwards as my legs suddenly felt like they had no ankles, the bottom half of them wobbling like jelly.
I waited for the impact of the pavement, closing my eyes when it became clear to me I wasn't going to stay standing. But instead of cement and stone, strong arms wrapped around my waist, almost snapping me in half as my body whiplashed forward. A squeal escaped me as my eyes shot open, pools of red and amber crashing into them.
"Are you alright?" He asked, still holding me in his embrace, half tipped backwards. I nodded instead of replying, laughter on my tongue at the corniness of this moment.
"Sorry," he continued as he stood me upright, "that joke backfired."
"Joke?" I asked, stepping out of his hold.
"Yeah. Pretending not to be your date. It played out so much better in my head."
Laughter burst out of me, relief rushing over me when I realised I wasn't falling into the arms of some random whilst Caine watched from the shadows. Until my brain caught up and I realised instead, I had made a complete twat out of myself in front of my date.
"Your jokes need to come with a health warning," I quipped.
"Alot of me should come with a health warning," he replied, a soft smile on his face as he moved to my side, dropping his hand to the small of my back.
"Shall we?" He continued, his hand simply resting near the top of my jeans, not pushing me forward.
"Sure," I smiled, praying to God I didn't stumble up the stairs and require yet another rescue mission.
I had a feeling the night was going to go spectacularly.
I just hoped that later, when I repeated that word out loud to Liza, I wasn't being sarcastic.