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“You look incredible,” Kai said, putting her arm around Sterling. “Wow.”

“Thanks,” I said, using my phone camera to check myself one more time.

“Touch Gillian Anderson!” Sterling said and I reluctantly patted the fake leopard on the head.

“Okay, I’m going,” I said as they watched me walk through the door.

“Your ass looks amazing!” Sterling called as I was shutting the door. I stuck my hand through the gap and gave her the finger.

Her laughter followed me all the way to the car.

* * *

When I got to Lacey’s place, I hoped that I hadn’t gone overboard with the outfit. It wasn’t like I had a ballgown on or anything, but the outfit was pretty and sexy at the same time.

No going back now. I got out and knocked on the front door, doing my best not to tremble with nerves.

“It’s open!” Lacey called and I stepped inside, immediately taking my shoes off. They were a good accompaniment to my outfit, but I was raised in a “shoes off at the door” home and I wasn’t ditching that habit. Not even for fashion.

“Hey,” Lacey said, appearing in the small foyer and looking me up and down. “Holy shit.”

Her eyes went wide and I wanted to cover my blushing cheeks.

“It’s too much, isn’t it?” I said, gesturing at my outfit.

Lacey slowly shook her head. “No, it’s not too much. It’s the exact right amount.”

While she took in what I was wearing, I looked at her. Lacey had traded her cargo shorts for a pair of sleek wide-leg black pants and a striped shirt that clung to her in ways that should be illegal.

“Too much?” Lacey asked, shoving her hands in her pockets.

“Just the right amount.”

We stared at each other for a moment and then Lacey remembered she was cooking dinner and sprinted to the stove.

“Shit, that was almost a disaster,” she said, turning down one of the burners.

“What are you making?” I asked, coming to stand right beside her.

“Just some simple steak and veggie kebabs and a salad with a bunch of things I bought at the farmers’ market. Oh, and lemon parmesan risotto, which I just almost burned.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

“I wish I had a grill outside, but I don’t so you’ll have to settle for these,” she said, frowning as she flipped the kebabs in the grill pan.

“I told you, I’m not picky. I would cook more, but it’s hard to do in the van. The place gets all steamed up and there’s nowhere to move and no dishwasher either. I’ve gotten used to my sister or Kai cooking for me. Does that make me a bitch?” I laughed, but it wasn’t totally a joke.

Lacey stirred the risotto and I had to admit, it smelled amazing. Everything did.

“No, it doesn’t make you a bitch. If you were forcing your sister to cook for you, then maybe. But if she’s offering and she likes doing it, then I don’t see the problem.”

“I’ve tried to get her to let me help, but then we just end up fighting so it’s easier to let her do it,” I said, remembering several of my attempts to help chop or prep something. “She worked on a food truck for five seconds and she thinks that means she’s a professional chef now.”

Lacey chuckled. “Well, I’ve never worked in any kind of kitchen, but I grew up cooking for myself a lot, so I got used to doing it. And it’s nice to be able to cook for someone else.”

“Should I grab drinks?” I asked. It was the least I could do.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I should have offered you one, but I got so distracted by cooking. Grab whatever you want from the fridge. I’ll just have a beer.”