Nightfall (Grim Gate #1) - Emily Goodwin Page 0,40

start to relax. “Want to join us tomorrow?”

“I would love to, but I have a date.”

“You do?” Leslie’s eyes widen. “Not another online date, though, right?”

“Right,” I laugh. “I’ve had more than enough bad experiences with that. I deleted all my online dating accounts at the airport yesterday, actually.”

“Who are you going out with? I need details. I’ve been with Adam since high school and want to vicariously live through first dates through you.”

“You are Adam are the perfect couple.”

Leslie waves her hand in the air and makes a face. “We’re boring and lame. High school sweethearts who got married young.” She rolls her eyes. “Even I want to gag at myself.”

“Just wait until you start having all those babies your mom wants you to have.”

Leslie tosses her head back. “Ugh, right? I do want kids, someday, but my job is training horses. Getting pregnant will pretty much eliminate everything but standing on the ground giving lessons.”

I twist Mystery’s mane around my fingers. “It would be sad not to be able to ride for nine months.”

“So sad. And it’ll also be sad not to get paid for nine months.”

“That is a bit of a bummer.”

“Now tell me about this guy,” she presses.

“His name is Ethan,” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face. “We ran into each other last week and have talked on the phone a lot, which sounds weird, I know.”

She looks at me and cocks an eyebrow. “It’s weird talking on the phone with someone you like?”

“Well, when you say it like that,” I reply, and we both laugh. “He’s easy to talk to, and also very easy on the eyes. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself. My track record with men isn’t the greatest.”

“That’s because you don’t let yourself get close to them. I know you have your…your abilities, Anora, but you’re a catch.”

“You’re way too nice, and it’s easy for the old married lady to say that.”

She laughs again. “That might be true, but don’t sell yourself short. And I expect details from your date, lady.”

My lips curve into a smile. “Deal.”

“This one?” I hold the dress up and shake my head before tossing it aside and going back to my closet. Hunter is laying on the bed, watching me agonize over what to wear to dinner tonight. It’s three PM and I’ve yet to hear from Ethan. He texted me last night right as I was crawling into bed, saying he’s looking forward to seeing me.

He’ll call, I’m sure of it. And it’s only three. Nowhere near time for dinner yet.

“What about this?” I pull a dark purple top out of my closet and shake out some of the wrinkles. It’s form-fitting with a low neckline. “With a pair of dark jeans?”

Hunter looks at me and wags his tail, which I take as a yes. I iron my shirt and lay out my outfit for later. Then I speed clean my house—paying special attention to the bedroom—in case tonight goes well and Ethan comes home with me. An hour and a half later my house is spotless. It’s a benefit of having a small house, I suppose, since it doesn’t take long to clean. The trick is finding places to cram all my stuff, which is usually Rubbermaid bins in the basement. I try to be organized. Life is easier that way, but I’m also pretty scatterbrained and half the time, I’m just trying to make it through the day without being bombarded with emotions belonging to a passing spirit.

Around five I do my hair and makeup. Ethan still hasn’t called, but the night is young. I stay in my loungewear, knowing I’ll get dog fur all over my dark shirt as soon as I sit down with Hunter. I turn on Charmed again, and when Ethan hasn’t called an episode and a half later, I grab my phone to first double check that I didn’t miss a call from him—I didn’t—and then text him.

Me: Hey! We still on for tonight?

I stare at the phone for a moment, hoping he’ll start typing. He doesn’t, and I put my phone on my lap. An hour passes and I still haven’t heard from him, making me feel like I’m getting stood up and ghosted. Why though? He called me Saturday night just to talk, and he texted me last night telling me he was looking forward to seeing me today.

It can’t be another cruel joke, and I hate that my mind

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