Page 107 of Falling Back to You

“I have to be home by ten.”

His shoulders tensed. “This again? Your mom can’t impose a ridiculous curfew on you just to keep the peace with Olive.”

“She does a lot of things I don’t like,” I shot back. “Everything’s a mess.”

Cal shook his head. “Forget about it. We won’t talk about them. Tonight’s about us.”

“Right. Us.” I set my taco down, no longer hungry. What was so hard for him to understand? Why won’t he stand up for me? Why isn’t he listening?

“We’ll figure it out later.” Cal motioned to my half-eaten wrap. “You gonna eat that?” When I shook my head, he snagged it with a wink. “What’s yours is mine, Holiday.”

My courage fizzled. He said we’d talk about it later. But what if later never came?

Chapter thirty-six

Noelle

“Is red too much?” I blurted out the minute Macy accepted my video chat.

“Red is never too much.” Her face contorted, then she sneezed three times in rapid succession. “Sorry, I think I’m allergic to Arkansas. The humidity is like a built-in moisturizer, but I haven’t stopped sneezing since I got here last week. But back to red, what’s the context here?”

I bit my lip, holding the dress to my chest. “Cal asked me on a date.”

“I knew it!” She shrieked. “Yes to the red. Wait, do you know where he’s taking you?”

“No. He just said to wear my favourite dress that made me confident but comfortable.”

“Classy. We love a king who promotes comfort.” Macy nodded in approval. “Are you comfortable in the red dress?”

I was. It was my favourite, and I owned it in multiple colours. Stretchy material and A-line silhouettes were the fastest way to my heart in the dress department. Slits and sheaths were just asking for trouble. “Yes, but I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.”

“Chica.” Macy frowned, trying to look stern. Hard to do with a pineapple-shaped smoothie cup in your hand, my friend. “Wear the red. You’re overthinking this.”

Right. Nothing new under the sun there. I hurried into the bathroom and changed, while Macy barked orders about my hair and makeup.

“Hair down. Men like that,” she said authoritatively.

“Have you seen my feral curls today?” The inability to tame them was the bane of my Type-A existence.

“You’re rocking them, Elle. I wish my hair curled like yours instead of demanding two bottles of hairspray to hold a curl for more than an hour. Oh, and do the smoky eye with that superb winged eyeliner. My makeup has been abysmal since you left. You’ve got a steadier hand than me.”

I laughed. That winged eyeliner technique had been all Melissa’s doing. Just remembering the countless times she’d helped me with my makeup before dates with Cal made my heart squeeze. “Let’s see if I can still do it.”

Macy regaled me with anecdotes of the life of a traveling hygienist. Most of them were horror stories, but they made me laugh. Thirty minutes later, I finished applying my final coat of mascara when someone knocked on the front door.

I bit my lip. “He’s here.”

“Eek! Okay. You got this. Lord, please settle Noelle’s nerves and let this be a beautiful evening for them both. Amen.”

“Love you, Mace.”

“Call me later! Byeee!”

Gripping my phone, I hurried to open the door.

Cal’s eyes widened in appreciation. “Whoa,” he murmured softly. Those four seconds of slack-jawed appraisal did wonders for my confidence.

“Whoa yourself,” I said shyly. The man knew how to wear a dress shirt—that blue was beautiful with his eye colour.