“Yup,” both women answer, their voices light with excitement.
“Even if you don’t like it, step out and let us see it,” Tessa says. “I might be able to tweak it so it’ll work.”
“Some of these are really short.” I pass a hand over the dresses hanging in front of me. I’m not used to wearing anything like this. “And this one . . . who wears a dress that has a slit up this high?”
Forget about the possibility of everyone at this thing seeing my chest. This one would show vagina.
“I own that one in white.”
I pull my hand back into a fist, wincing. My eyes fixate on the door as uncomfortable silence fills the longest seconds of my life.
Shit. Recover, Beth! Say something!
“It’s . . . I love it. It’s so pretty.” My words stick to my tongue, struggling to escape my mouth. I’m insulting my new friends. Awesome. I’m sure they’ll be dying to hang out with me now.
As my head drops against the wall, laughter erupts from behind the door.
“Tessa, tell her you’re kidding!”
“I am. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. That was too easy.” Tessa’s voice breaks with a cackle. “Whew. I crack myself up sometimes.”
“You’re a brat,” Mia teases, her voice getting louder as she moves closer to the door. “Beth, we’re ready when you are. Take your time.”
I like these girls. They make even this torture enjoyable.
Lifting my head, I pull my shoulders back and switch the dress in my hand for another that’s hanging up. “Okay, but I’m not doing nipple. I’d like to leave whether or not I have any piercings to the imagination.”
I KNOW I SHOULDN’T FEEL this way.
I know this entire night will all be for show. One giant lie.
I know this isn’t going to mean anything, and whatever happens at this party will be done based on the need to make our roles believable.
But I can’t help my excitement. Reed has made me feel more comfortable in the short time we’ve spent together than any other person I’ve ever been around. It’s easy with him, and not in a chummy friend sort of way. My heartbeat rivals a hummingbird on crack in his presence. I’ve never had many friends, but the ones I did have never elicited that type of reaction.
And now I can’t even hide it.
Now, when it all becomes too much, when the warmth in my blood reaches the surface of my skin, when an unforgiving pressure forms between my hips, and my lungs struggle to keep up with the pace my heart is setting, I can’t look away to catch my breath. He forces me to keep my eyes on his. He overloads me with stimuli, and then pins me down, stealing my reaction as if he’s earned it, or as if it was his all along and he’s taking it back. I’m sure it’ll be like this tonight. I’m sure he’ll do something, or say something that will provoke my body. Even if it is a night where every touch will be an act, I get to be around someone who makes me smile more than I’ve ever smiled in my entire life. So, no, I can’t help my excitement. I want to be around Reed, and I’m not ashamed to admit that.
Even though I am filled with unrestrained enthusiasm, I hold off getting ready for as long as I can. I read a little, watch The Fault In Our Stars with my aunt, hold ice cubes under my eyes to relieve some of the puffiness brought on from watching The Fault In Our Stars, and read some more. I take a bath instead of a shower, trying to stretch out my minutes. I spend longer than I ever have on my hair and makeup, and still finish with an hour and forty-five minutes to spare before Reed is due to arrive.
It’s a habit of mine. I’m an early person, and I always have been. Luckily I’m also stellar at killing time. Being a lover of books has its perks. There’s always a story waiting to be read. A hero to fall in love with. A heroine to adore. Sometimes I think I should change genres and actually give the potential men in my life a chance.
My expectations of love are dangerously unrealistic.
Danny is already at the bar, and I know Hattie will be leaving soon to head into work. She mentioned earlier when we were sobbing next to each other on the couch that she wished she had memories of me. She would’ve loved to have held me when I was a baby, or been there to watch me walk across the stage at my high school graduation. I would’ve loved that too. I want her to have the time she missed with me. I can’t give her that, but I can give her something that might help ease some of the ache of knowing she’ll never get those moments. A small thank you for being here for me now.
She’s at the kitchen island, sifting through some mail when I walk into the room. Her face turns up and gentles considerably at the sight of me.
“Wow, darlin,’ you look so beautiful.” She grabs her purse and digs out her phone, holding it out to take a picture. “Sorry. I have to do this.”
I hold the shoebox behind my back and bend my knee, giving her my best smile. “Good?”