Sissy took off the green tank top she’d put on an hour ago, suddenly unsure about it. Dave would be here any minute, and she had no idea what to wear.
She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous to have him come for dinner. They’d seen each other every day for months, and he probably wouldn’t have any clue that she’d worn the same tank top to lunch with him a few weekends ago.
But Sissy knew.
She’d just slid the meal he’d requested into the oven five minutes ago, and now she needed a new shirt. The doorbell rang, and she dashed over to the bedroom door and closed it.
Dave would just come in. He never waited for her to answer the door, and sure enough, his voice called, “Sissy?”
“Be right out,” she yelled over her shoulder before ducking back into the tiny walk-in closet. She hadn’t realize
