Chapter Twenty Three
Lizzie buzzed up the Navy pilot, her stomach feeling like it was full of drunk butterflies. She had no opportunity to don her Material Girl costume, so he’d have to see her as the real Lizzie: no makeup, no stilettos, just…her. Would he still want her? At least I’ll find out if he was interested in the costume or the real me.
He knocked softly on her door and she swung it open to find the big-shouldered man taking up much of the doorframe. God, the man was sex itself. His dark eyes brightened when they saw her.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m Hunter.”
“I’m Lizzie.” He extended a hand and she shook it. Then he glanced at her robe and her flat hair.
“You look a little different, Material Girl.”
Lizzie shifted uncomfortably at the door. Here was the moment of truth. Was he only into the Madonna version of herself? Or could he go for the real, boring, no-makeup Lizzie?
“This is how I normally look,” she confessed. “I’m not usually a sexy pop star. I’m actually a real-life librarian. So…if you want to go, I understand.”
“Why would I go? I like this look much better.”
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