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The narrowing of my gaze receives obnoxious laughs that have me spinning back towards the mirror.
I don’t need this shit.
Not today.
Especially not now.
Deciding what to wear is hard enough without being prodded about what to say.
What not to say.
How to not say it.
I somehow need all the advice he has to offer and none of it simultaneously.
“What about blue?” He interrogates, warranting my stare to meet his in the mirror. “Got a blue one? Even a midnight shade?”
I solemnly shake my head.
So many things died alongside my family that dreadful night.
My colorful wardrobe.
My social skills.
And for the longest time, my basic will to live.
“It’s a good thing you look great in black then, huh?” J.T. impishly states in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Otherwise, we’d be royally fucked.”
Grinning over the comment is a struggle.
A lot like convincing myself this is a good idea.
He slides his hands into his light blue suit pants pocket in tandem with proclaiming, “You’re nervous.”
“I’m…uncertain.”
“The rest of us typically call being ‘uncertain’ before a first date nervous.”
I wordlessly fidget with the collar to my black button down instead of arguing.
“Would it help if I was there?”
“No.”
My lack of hesitation has him laughing at my expense again. “You really like this woman.”
“I…” a small vacillation of my head occurs. “Yes.” We lock our eyes for a second time in the mirror. “I really like her, J.T.”
“Good because she really likes you.”
“She likes getting under my skin.”
“Oh no, she loves that.” The wiggling of his eyebrows returns my glaring. “Almost as much as she loves Star Trek.”
That says quite a lot considering how many references I think she makes in a day.
“Alright, since I’ve done this whole dating thing just slightly more recently than you-”
