An apology for his loss seems meaningless. Considering I too lost my mother, I know I’d hate for someone to tell me they were sorry. It’s such a meaningless thing to say to someone in mourning.
I don’t know what to say to him.
I never do.
“I think we should get you a dress tomorrow.” The force he puts into that statement shifts us entirely. He doesn’t want to talk about Camilla. And I understand that. “Since you ruined that red one Jameson so sweetly got for you.” The corner of his lips tilt into a smile but that heavy feeling of emotion is still swirling within me.
Casually, I pull my hand from his and try to find some sense of normalcy.
“Yeah. I’ll find one. Don’t worry.” I mentally run through all the places I could get a free dress. A shelter isn’t exactly going to have the most lavish gowns… I could steal it, but theft only brings unwanted attention…
“I want to take you. Tomorrow. We can grab lunch while we’re out too.”
In a weird way, that stiff statement almost feels like a date.
“Okay.” My arms fold over my chest, wishing I had something to do with my hands.
Does he really trust me? Or am I simply an outsider still?
A smile pulls wider against his lips and I still can’t find it in me to smile back at him.
“You don’t have to look so tense. It’s just a dress, Alexa.” He breathes out my name and the sound of it catches my attention as I nod.
It’s just a dress.
And I am just an asset.
* * *
I’m assumingmost dates are a little more romantic than this, but I really have no idea. The door shakes loudly against its hinges as Tylin bangs on it for the third time.
“Almost done?” His timber is deep and echoing against the dressing room door.
I push my palms down the tight material of the white dress that’s clinging to my skin. It isn’t revealing. It’s… pretty. I guess. There’s a slice down the center of the top, revealing a teasing amount of my cleavage, while the smooth material slides down my body and whisks against the floor. It’s the last one I have to try on. The ten others that I tried on felt constricting and unflattering. This one’s just loose enough for a weapon underneath. Just sexy enough to feel comfortable. It’s so light it makes my skin appear warmer, my hair darker, my eyes brighter.
That makes it pretty, right?
My hands hang at my sides. Why am I so awful at ‘girling’?
Another harsh banging against the door and I tense from the startling sound of it.
I turn on my heels and fling open the door.
“You’re going to get us thrown out,” I hiss.
The anger within me simmers dully when I notice the astounded way he’s looking at me. Last time, when I wore the red dress, he looked at me like he wanted to eat me slowly. He said I wasfucking hot.
He’s not looking at me like that now. I almost wish he was. Lustful looks I’m experienced with. This awe and silence, I don’t have a clue what to do with that.
“Please say something.” My gaze sweeps over the quiet boutique, over the billowing dresses hanging against the wall, the shining chandeliers; anywhere but at him.
“I guess it was worth the wait.” There’s a low and rumbling sound in his words that makes me blush so hard it burns against my cheeks.
Dammit.
I don’t know why there’s this awkwardness between us. I can stand nearly naked in front of Jameson and appraise every inch of Mason’s chest but I can’t seem to even make confident eye contact with Tylin.
Maybe it’s because he isn’t teasing when he says stuff like this to me. There’s no flirting smile, no subtle touches.
