Page 39 of Like You Want It

CHAPTER EIGHT

CARLY

With Dina’s crazy busy new job, we aren’t able to schedule a new girl’s night until the following weekend. We won’t get the Monday ‘Ladies Night’ drink prices that we had originally planned on, but we still want to shake our asses and enjoy ourselves. And the Friday night DJ at The Rodeo is amazing.

When she comes over to get ready, we pull my large makeup mirror into the living room, set out all of our makeup bags, and play some fun tunes on Spotify.

There aren’t a lot of things I enjoy as much as spending time on my hair and makeup. While I wouldn’t slot myself in with the people who can’t go anywhere without a full face, I am definitely someone who prefers to look my best in every situation.

Working in a coffee shop means I get to be pretty free with things. Where else can you wear jeans all of the time and also put your tattoo half sleeve on display? But I still choose to tone things down when I’m clocked in. And asmeas I get to be when I’m teaching yoga, I still keep things on my face low maintenance. The last thing you want when you’re teaching an exercise class is to have your makeup dripping onto your yoga mat. Or your clients.

So it’s only when I go out with friends, typically Dina, that I do what I really want. My thick hair is pulled up in a braided faux hawk. The eyeliner that I’ve used to rim my eyes is bold and dark. And I’m wearing my all-time favorite jean short cutoffs that I found at the Salvation Army, paired with a black bustier top and a pair of black boots that come up to my knee.

There’s a conflict inside of me sometimes. A small piece of me that likes to go darker than the bright colors and sunshine and happiness that I radiate on most days.

I don’t know if the people who are used to Happy Carly can really handle it when I dress this way. I’m usually a bursting ray of sunshine and an explosion of rainbows on any given day. I even gave myself the nickname Lady HappyButt when I was in elementary school, much to Dina’s enjoyment.

And yet, here I am, wearing what I consider to be myfavoritelook. And it’s dark and sensual and… dare I say it… a little bit fancy emo.

I should take a picture to show Jet. He’d be so proud.

It doesn’t change my personality – I’ll always be Lady HappyButt – but, it does make me feel different. Makes me a little bolder. A little wilder.

“Oh girl. Someone is on theprowltonight,” Dina says as we stand in my tiny bathroom putting the finishing touches on. She hikes up her skirt and sits down on the toilet, going pee while I’m a foot away.

“Remind me why we got ready at my apartment when you have a bathroom spacious enough that your toilet has a door?”

Dina snorts and finishes up as I fix my lip liner. “We both know that if I’m going to pre-game and go out to party, I cannot leave my apartment looking like this.”

I glance her over. Dina likes to follow the theme, so in support of our trip to a western bar, she’s wearing a faded jean skirt, a plaid button up top that shows off a whole lotta that cleeve she’s been blessed with, and my favorite pair of cowboy boots.

“Why can’t you leave looking like this? Your butler gonna call your mom?”

She just rolls her eyes and picks up Cabbie off the floor, petting her in a very Dr. Evil kind of way. “You know Alfred gets paid extra for his discretion.”

And then we both break into giggles.

We finish up pretty quickly after that, take some tequila shots and then tuck our IDs and lipstick into our clutches. I lock up and then head down the hallway, rounding the corner in the direction of my car.

Unfortunately, I also smack right into someone.

Fin.

His arms come out to brace me, resting just briefly on the sliver of exposed skin between my top and my shorts, his warm skin sizzling against mine.

He grips me slightly, his hands dragging down my sides as he steadies me, his thumbs grazing my hips.

It lights an unexpected streak of fire through my core. A fire I’m certain Fin can see in my eyes as he takes a step back. I feel oddly wounded by the action, as if it was an active decision to push me away.

Still, against my better judgment, and knowing that absolutely nothing will come from it, I allow my eyes the chance to take in the dark jeans that rest comfortably on his hips, and the maroon button up that fits snuggly against his muscles.

“Hi!”

Susie’s voice, much more jubilant than I’ve come to expect from her, draws my eyes in her direction. It makes me so happy that she’s starting to come out of her shell a bit with me. I don’t expect her to be anyone other than herself. But I want her to feel like she can be hertrueself.

“You lookbeautiful,” she says, her eyes perusing my outfit. “This is such a different look for you. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in one of those chick punk bands.”

And then she throws up the horns, and I break into a fit of laughter.