"Pleaseeeeeeee!!! It doesn't have to be an actual date. We just have to pretend. I swear it'll be a one time thing" Scott whined like a toddler.
Lena kept shaking her head - "One day she's going to finally go out with you and she'll think we used to date. It'll get awkward between us three. No way!"
"Lena" - he paused pinching the bridge of his nose - "I'm begging you to throw me a lifesaver! I just need to be able to watch her and make sure he doesn't get to touchy"
"Please" he pouted.
"Alright... One night, no strings attached, you'll tell her it didn't work out afterwards and you're buying me dinner"
"Deal!" He hugged her so tight she couldn't breathe, but let go quickly when he heard Harriet barge in. She grinned happily seeing them together.
"You guys look so cute together..." She sounded a little too happy.
Harriet ordered her usual and headed towards her usual table. She scrolled through her phone giggling as she replied Luke's texts. Scott couldn't help cracking his knuckles and neck at the sight. He absolutely adored her smile, but he hated knowing who it was that made her smile.
-------------------------------------------------
On Friday, Scott barely managed to make it through the say without biting all of his nails off. Instead, he was actually starting to look forward to the gig.
He had already picked a new blue shirt, that he knew was Harriet's favorite color. He rolled back his sleeves so his tattoos were showing off. He got his beard and hair trimmed just a little to make them even. He even went all the way to the drugstore to get a new scented aftershave.
When he was done getting dressed up, he looked in the mirror. He was actually quite content with his looks. Harriet was surely going to notice him that night. He was determined to have her see him the way he saw her, so he got in his car and drove off.
He pulled at Lena's driveway, walked to her door and rang the doorbell. Anxiety was almost making his legs tingle, but he was taken by surprise when Lena opened the door.
Normally, Lena would be wearing her waitress uniform, her hair tied up in a pretty ordinary ponytail, barely any makeup on and her eyes would be hiding behind her big glasses.
That night, she was wearing a black and purple dress down to her knees, high heels that made her slender legs look like they went on forever. Her big blue eyes were highlighted beautifully with makeup and her glasses were gone.
"Let's get this over with!" She muttered shutting the door and making her way to the car.
"Whoa! Lena, hold on... You... You look... Wow!" He was completely speechless.
"Stop it, Scotty. You will not be making fun of me tonight. I'm only doing this to help you get her jealous."
"I am DEAD serious, Lena! You look..." He took a second to really look at her head to toes - "Your eyes are so... I thought you wore glasses..."
"Yeah, I don't like wearing them at clubs and stuff. I'm wearing contacts."
Scott shook his head trying to refocus and opened the door for her to get in the car.
"Scott Cale, I'm serious! Stop mocking me or I'm walking back home."
"I'm just trying to treat you nice, damn!! No need to be feisty!" He let her open her own door and got himself in the driver's seat.
On the way to the pub, Scott turned back on the radio. He had been listening to one of his The Killers' album and he was surprised tonhear Lena humming to it.
"I didn't know you liked The Killers... Or any music at all..."
She grinned so wide he thought he might have said something different than what he thought - "Seriously? They're like the best band ever! I'm surprised you know them, though. Aren't you too old fashioned for them? I thought you'd be more of a Deep Purple kinda guy!"
"I am hahaha! I just found out about them because somebody left them playing for hours at the shop. I grew fond of them." He was genuinely smiling.
"Ah! That would have been me! I'm sorry!" Lena blushed so much that he noticed her face turn red.
"Don't be! I love them now! Now I know I have you to thank!" He glanced her way as she turned towards her window trying to hide her blushed cheeks.
