"Another round, please!"
I leaned across the bar, eyeing the petite blonde with a playful smirk. "That'll be your fifth espresso martini tonight, Carpenter. Treading dangerous waters, aren't we?"
Sabrina's lips curled into a dazzling smile as she sl...
"Can I see you yet?" Sabrina's voice echoed from just outside the bathroom door, her tone enthusiastic. I could hear the excitement in her voice as if she were just as eager to see me as I was to step out.
Tonight, we were supposed to meet her parents for the first time at her house in Quakertown, about an hour's drive from where we'd just checked into our hotel in Philly.
Needless to say.. I'm shitting my brains out.
I let out a quiet, shaky laugh, trying to ease the tension, as I fumbled with the belt around my waist. My fingers were unsteady, making it harder than it should've been to fasten the silver buckle. When I finally managed to get it right, I straightened up and took a quick glance at myself in the bathroom mirror. I adjusted my blazer, making sure it was sitting properly, the fabric neat and aligned. The reflection staring back at me was both reassuring and unfamiliar.
I did look good, though. I'd give myself that at least.
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"Are you sure I'm not overdressed?" I called out, still fussing with my hair, tugging at the curtain bangs that framed my face. I let my long locks fall just right over my shoulders, hoping I was striking the right balance between polished and relaxed. Sabrina's voice drifted through the door again, followed by a soft rustle of movement on the bed.
"You're gonna look perfect," she hummed, a trace of confidence in her voice that made me feel a little lighter. "Plus, they're all from your wardrobe. I just styled them."
Her words were meant to reassure me, and they did, but I couldn't help feeling that twinge of self-doubt.
What if they didn't like me?
I couldn't help but wonder. I mean, the woman their daughter was bringing home is a bartender. Not that I'm not proud of my job, because I totally am. I love what I do. But what if they were expecting someone else? Someone... better? More "acceptable," maybe. After all, I'm pretty sure I'd be her first girlfriend. Or at least, soon, I'd be.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, checking my makeup. Nothing fancy—just a touch of lip gloss, some winged eyeliner, and mascara. I found myself zoning in on my eyebrows for a second, making sure they were still full and looking good. I let out a little sigh, finally feeling okay about how I looked. The nerves were still there, but at least I could tell myself I looked put together.
I grabbed my perfume that Sabrina told me she adored on me, sprayed a bit on my neck, and wrists, then turned toward the door. I creaked it open slowly and turned off the bathroom light behind me, stepping out into the room.
