My sundress is white with a small floral pattern. It’s high waisted, but because my chest is so big, it looks empire-waisted on me. The front top resembles a corset with hook and eye closures, but the thin material isn’t too tight. The bottom hem lands right above my knee. The skirting has two layers of the same thin fabric from the top creating a fuller effect. Thank goodness, I didn’t wear this yesterday. I leave my hair down, long and wavy. It’s not too frizzy, so I’m happy with it. I want to look nice for Masen, so I add a little eyeliner to my mascara and blush to my cheeks before smacking on some vanilla lip balm. I’ve already repainted my nails a deep dark purple, so I grab my boots and go find Masen.

I hear him speaking to someone before I find him. His voice is calm, relaxed. He’s either on the house phone or whoever he’s talking to is here because I still have his cell. I stop walking and think about him. I’m trying to use my senses to see if I can strengthen them. I close my eyes. He’s in the living room; I know that much. I’m not sure how I know, but I do. The only emotion I feel is contentment. A small bubble of happy surfaces, almost like a laugh. I smile at his happy thought, whatever it was. I can still hear the low cadence of his voice but not the words.

Giving up, I head to the living room. His back is to me. The phone cradled between his ear and shoulder as he uses his hands in front of him. It sounds like he’s pouring a drink. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll see you there.” He disconnects. “Hey, Little One,” he says before turning. He does have a short rounded glass in his hand with a few inches of an amber liquid. When my eyes move up to his, I see desire etched in his features, hooded eyes and lips parted. His top teeth sink into his full bottom lip as his gaze goes from my face to my bare feet then back up. He widens his legs and adjusts himself. I’ll be damned if it’s not one of the hottest things ever to know I caused that reaction. “Love looking at you, baby, but I’m not sure you should wear the dress, yeah. You got any sweatpants? Maybe a sweatshirt? It’s too warm for a coat.” The end comes out more to himself. “What about that really long dress from yesterday? That one touched your toes. I like that dress and the sweater, you had a sweater,” he’s rambling.

It’s so stinking cute. I shake my head. He’s still in his jeans and t-shirt. I know he’ll be the most handsome man in the room, and he’s worried about someone seeing my legs? He’s kinda crazy, but it makes me feel good.

“Masen, I love you. Are you ready?”