10
Make-up. Check.
Cute hair. Check.
Skinny jeans. Check.
Fitted shirt that shows my curves. Check.
My final once-over in the mirror doesn’t exactly reveal me to be femme fatale status, but if I do say so myself, I look attractive and at least I’m not stinking drunk or covered in a plateful of food. Progress.
A soft knock at the door has me turning in that direction. My grandma pokes her head through with a knowing smile. “Honey, there’s a nice boy at the door to see you.” I crook my head and scrunch my forehead. “Pretty sure he said his name is Cole.”
What the hell is he doing here?
After coming to terms with the fact that I would have to make nice with Cole, I got his number from Tahlia under the guise that I would need it to help with the wedding. I texted and asked if he wanted
