The last few days have brought nothing but stress as I tried to figure out what I was going to wear tonight. I've done my best to try and plan, but I don't have too many girlfriends in New York. I don't have any here unless you want to count Quinn. I'm not sure I'd ever ask her for clothing advice since her closet seems to be made up of the color black only.

Anything pant related is out of the question since I'm having a hard time getting anything other than sweatpants over my ankle without jerking it the wrong way.

It's freezing outside too, but I'm assuming that a white turtleneck shirt with a denim skirt would be fine? Dean didn't really say what the proper attire was. Just that it was a small thing. I can dress it up with earrings and a belt or if I decide that's too much, earrings are always removable. I have absolutely no idea what shoes I'm going to wear. I feel like Bambi on my crutches still so I guess it's a good thing I only have them for a few more days.

And my hair? What do I even do with this mess? It's not quite straight, but it's not wavy either. And then underneath the top layers it gets all curly and kinked especially when I sleep on it wet.

Ruth was always the person that helped me get ready for dates. Without her here, I feel lost in more ways than I can count.

I am absolutely hopeless.

I've thought a hundred times about texting him and saying that I couldn't make it. I have reasonable reasons to cancel; I know absolutely nothing about him except that they call him Barbie at work? Probably not a good sign for me.

But realistically, I don't want a relationship because I know how it's going to end. Nothing is guaranteed. So if I look at it that way then there shouldn't be anything holding me back. Tonight isn't even a date and I'm completely overthinking everything. Something I have a terrible habit of doing.

After tugging my skirt up with some difficulty, I limp over to the full length mirror I brought from home. The shirt hides my scar which is a relief and the skirt makes my legs look long since I can't rely on heels for that. I've narrowed it down to two pairs of nice sandals that aren't exactly my first pick to wear in the winter, but all of my booties are out of commission for the time being. I end up going with the less strappy pair because they're the only ones that fit over the wrap my ankle is in.

The outfit looks pretty good if I do say so myself. I'm hoping that Dean will recognize the effort his friend is trying to put in to look decent.

I check the time and decide that I have to move a little bit faster if I want to be ready by the time he gets here. I attempt to straighten my brown mane of hair, but ultimately decide that a loose braid with face framers is the way to go.

My phone starts to ring just as I move to apply mascara. The brush goes straight into my eye causing searing pain to go through, "Shit." I swear, grabbing my phone to see who is calling.

Of course it's Ruth, but I thought she was going out tonight? Regardless of what I thought her plans for the night were, I answer her FaceTime. Her smile pops up on the screen before turning into one of concern, "Oh my gosh, are you okay?"

I know for a fact there are tears running down my face that I have to wipe to sound believable, "Perfectly fine, just suffering from a little eye trauma."

"Wait what?"

I blink a few times trying to regain my sight, "I was about to put mascara on when you called. The brush went straight into my eye."

Her laughter only furthers my belief that I'm hopeless. "Oh Lace. I miss you."

I squint to smile at her, "I miss you too. I thought you were going out tonight?"

"Eh, I needed a night in. I feel like I've been all over the place the past few weeks." I however can't relate to that feeling because all I do is stay in. "You have a hot date tonight!"

If I could, I would roll my eyes at her. "I know I told you that it wasn't a date. He probably just wanted some company for the night."

"I'm sure he does want your company," She teases and I feel my cheeks go red.

"Ruth you're reading too much into this. Dean specifically said we were going as friends."

She looks skeptical, "I hate to point it out to you, but you guys aren't exactly friends. What do you even know about him?"

I set the phone down so I can try to do my makeup again now that I can kinda see, "Well his friends call him Barbie. He's a firefighter. Uhm, he likes his family? I don't know. Isn't that what hanging out is for?"

"I'm going to let the whole 'Barbie' nickname slide for now and come back to that later. So you're telling me that you have no romantic interest in Dean at all?" Ruth asks to confirm and I hesitate before sweeping my foundation brush lightly over my cheeks.

"I find Dean attractive, but that doesn't mean I want anything romantically with him. I know you wanted me to give him my number, but I don't want a relationship. I could use a friend right now and that's what he offered."

I feel bad being blunt with her, especially once I see the look on her face. "You're right. But I also think you're lying to yourself and to me. Lacey, you went there for a reason-"

"No, I'm not. But I have to get going. I'll talk to you later, love you."

I wait to hang up until I hear her respond, "Have fun, I love you too."

Not even seconds after hanging up, there's a knock at the front door. I give myself a quick check in the mirror and I look the best I can on my own. My brown eyes are enhanced by the mascara I managed to apply successfully the second time. My skin for once has decided to be blemish free, but I'm sure that won't be the case after putting makeup on for tonight.

I crutch to the front door and open it revealing Dean on the other side. He looks different with his short dark curls somewhat tamed and a leather jacket over a light blue button down. He looks good, "Hey. Are you ready to go?"

I smile and nod at him, "Could you give me one second to grab my coat?"

"No worries," Dean says, motioning for me to get a move on.

I try to go as fast as I can without completely wiping out, "You don't have to stay in the doorway. It's a bit messy in here from unpacking, but I tried to make it feel like home."

"Did you just move to the city?" He asks following me in, but hanging back in the living room.

"Yeah! Four weeks today actually," I respond, tugging my coat and adjusting where my crutches will lay. I think I have bruises under my armpits. He's looking at a few pictures I had unpacked and set out on the coffee table. "It's been a bit of an adjustment from the small town I'm originally from."

"What brought you here?"

I shrug because I don't know why I picked New York City. "I needed a change and I have this bucket list I made with my best friend when we were teenagers. One of the few left was to move to a big city. I think I picked New York because it's the biggest one? Go big or go home," I joke causing him to smile. My god it's such a nice smile.

"As someone who has lived here for most of their life, it's the best city in the world. I have a feeling that we're going to get along perfectly. You look great by the way," He says smiling kindly. I'm glad to hear him say that about us getting along because I agree.

"Thanks, I wasn't really sure what to wear. You were kind of vague about the whole thing."

I follow Dean out to the elevator in the hallway after locking my door. He's walking slowly which I appreciate because I think this is the most workout my arms have ever gotten.

There was a little bit of small talk in the elevator, but it's safe to say that my jaw hit the ground when I saw the car he was walking towards. It was a bright red Corvette that looked like it was brand new. My family wasn't by any means poor, but that doesn't mean we had money to spend on things like this. All my check ups made sure of that.

"This is your car?" I ask stunned and he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I know it's a bit flashy, it was a birthday present from my brother. Just wait till you see the rest of my family's cars. This is nothing compared to them." He says and I have a hard time believing him. Who even is this guy?

"You're joking, right?" I ask hesitantly and he shakes his head.

"Not at all. It would certainly have made my life easier if I was."

I want to ask more about it, but I'm not quite sure yet wether I believe him. The car is certainly questionable. Is he a drug dealer on the side of being a firefighter? It doesn't really make sense because he doesn't seem like the kind of guy that would be one.

I guess you never really know.

Dean helps me into the car because he's noticed by now that I don't have the best balance, and I'm thankful for the help. I just can't quite figure him out.