Am I willing to give him a chance? I don’t know the answer to that either. But I’m tired of always being scared to be in his presence. I’m tired of constantly being on guard anytime someone mentions his name.
The truth is, I’m just bone-deep tired.
“I think,” I pause, blowing out a breath, “I think I’ll be okay going with you all. You’re right, Mel. I won't know anything unless I put myself in the same place as him in a similar environment to the night of the pool house.”
My stomach clenches at the mention of it. I’ve come a long way, but not far enough. Rebecca, as she’s told me, can only help get me so far. The rest is going to be up to me.
This is just the next step on my path to healing.
I wish telling myself that made it easier.
“It might end up being too much,” I warn them.
“And if it is, then you let us know and we leave,” Alek says. “You come first, Char.”
I slap my palms against my thighs and exhale hard. “Time to get dolled up. There’s no way I’m walking into this mess without my armor.”
Alek climbs to his feet and holds out his hand. “Then let’s get you dolled up.”
Sliding my hand into his, I let Alek pull me to my feet and follow him to my room, with Amelia trailing along behind us.
He leads me straight to my closet and swings open the door. “Mel, you’re on hair and makeup. I got the outfit, shoes, and everything underneath.”
I stand outside the door of my closet, twisting my hands together, as I watch Alek go through all the clothes hanging in it. He mutters to himself as he lifts dresses out, checking them over, glancing at me before shaking his head and hanging them back up.
My breath hitches when he pulls out a dress I’ve never dared to wear. It’s bolder than anything else I own, bought in the aftermath of catching Keaton and Rihanna together, but never brave enough to slip on—until now.
It’s full of black leather and lace, and so fucking short I doubt I’d be able to bend over or squat without flashing someone the goods. The lace covers the slits that crisscross up the side of the dress, leaving very little to the imagination. It also doesn’t leave room for any lines, which means if this is the one he picks, there's a good chance someone will see what the hell I have to offer. And it’s probably not going to be anyone I want to see.
But, oh man, can I just imagine Keaton’s reaction to me in it.
“Alek,” I warn weakly.
The smirk that glides over his face lets me know just how much trouble I’m in. “You already know, Lollie. Hell, my dick is getting hard just thinking about you being in it, so I know you’ll have that man dropping to his knees and begging to pray at your altar.”
I roll my eyes with a huff. “You’re ridiculous.”
He ignores me and pursues my heels, grabbing the one pair I cherish the most. I’ve only worn them once or twice because I’m terrified of wearing them out. The red sole pleads with me as they swing from his fingers.
“Woman, I almost want to throw a fit that I never knew you owned these things. Because, holy fuck, the things I’d have done to you in them alone. I already know your legs look sexy as fuck in heels, but something tells me that these beauties are going to make one hell of an impact with that dress.”
Considering Keaton bought them for me with money he saved from pulling all the extra shifts at work, he’s probably not wrong about that.
Alek gently pushes the dress and the shoes into my arms, and then turns me by my hips and marches me to the middle of the bedroom. “Shower and shave, and then get your ass back out here and get dressed.”
“You’re being really bossy right now,” I tell him, aiming a glare his way.
“I’m always bossy, babe.” He smacks my ass, causing me to jump. “Now, get your ass in the shower.”
The shower doesn’t take long since I had taken one last night and shaved then, but I run my razor over my legs and armpits just to catch any stubble.
I make sure all the moisture is off my body. Otherwise, I’ll never get the dress on. It’s already tight enough that I have to wiggle and hop about trying to get it over my hips and boobs. Any moisture is only going to make it that much harder to get into.
Once I have the damn things on, I stand tall and stare at myself in the mirror. I twist one way, then the other, before turning around and looking over my shoulder.
Wow. The dress looks even sexier on me than I ever imagined.
I look incredible, and the longer I stand in front of the mirror, the more my smile grows, and so does my confidence to face Keaton.
