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4 - #403

Lexa

After meeting everyone, we decide to regroup in the lobby at 6:00 and leave to make our reservation at 6:15. The restaurant is a few miles away and Brayden suggests we walk.

"Easy for you to say. You won't be in heels," I hear Palmer mutter beside me. I glance at her and smile, and she blushes when she realizes I heard her.

"Okay, 6:00. I'll see you all then," John calls before walking away. He's ten years older than me, 6'3", muscles rippling under his red polo shirt. His blonde hair is cut military style. He'll be playing the fire chief. Makes sense.

The rest of us follow, Brayden and Peyton heading up the staircases to the second floor while the rest of us go to the elevator. I step in last and realize the button for the fourth floor is already lit. "Who else is on four?"

"Oh, that's me." Palmer's leaning against the back wall, her arms crossed over her chest and a section of her midriff exposed by the crop top she's wearing. I avert my gaze when I realize my eyes are set on her toned abs. The boys get off at the third floor and it's just the two of us in the elevator.

"What's your room number?" she asks.

I double-check the card in my hand to be sure. "405. You?"

Palmer pushes off the wall and stands beside me, her hands in her pockets. "403."

Oh, great. We walk off the elevator together and she stops outside my door. "Should we wear dresses?" she wonders. "They said it was some fancy Italian place." Her brown eyes stare directly into mine, the color of gingerbread. Shorter pieces of her wavy hair frame her face perfectly. She only wears mascara but she's still easily the most beautiful woman I've ever met.

"Is that a yes...?" she prompts me.

"Oh, yeah. Or, at least I'm wearing one," I manage to stutter out, failing to hide the blush rising in my cheeks.

The corner of her mouth turns up into a half smile as she notices my discomfort. "I'll knock on your door when I'm ready, we can head down together," she offers.

I agree and she smiles fully, her lips separating to show pretty, white teeth. She has a dimple in her left cheek. "Bye, Lex." She turns away and unlocks her door, disappearing into the room.

---

Fifteen minutes later I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, applying dark red lipstick. The color stands out on my tan skin and compliments nicely with my navy blue dress. The dress's thin straps cross over my shoulder blades, where my skin is exposed to the small of my back. The neckline crosses my chest in a curved line that sits low and exposes a tiny amount of cleavage. The skirt flows around my thighs, the fabric swishing when I move.

Once I double-check to make sure my makeup looks decent, I move on to my hair. I take a small section of strands from the front of one side and twist it before pulling it to the center of the back of my head. I do the same on the other side and spiral the hair together, holding the twists in place with a butterfly clip. I add a thin layer of hair spray and leave the bathroom, stepping into the adjourning master bedroom.

I head to the windows and draw the curtains back, letting sunlight spill into the room. I stand there quietly as the warm rays wash over me. I take a deep breath. This is happening. This is really happening.

If you told me a year ago I'd be standing here now... I would've called you insane. But I did it. I really did it.

My bare feet sink into the soft carpet, my toes burrowing in the plush surface. After another few minutes of simply standing in wonder, I walk to the suitcase sitting on the rack against the wall. I take out a pair of black, open-toed heels with a simple strap across the front and back. I head into the living room, tossing them onto the couch next to me as I take a seat and grab my laptop.