I return my gaze to Tillie. “Where is Noelle?”
Tillie grins. “Right there.”
My gaze moves to the top of the stairs, and I stop breathing. I dig my hands in my pockets because they begin to shake. With each step she takes, I hold my breath. She looks unbelievable.
“Close your mouth, Roman. You will catch flies,” Tillie whispers.
I swallow. Noelle was a vision. It’s like she is dipped in liquid gold. The dress clings to every curve of her body, but it was the tiny chain mesh that made the gown. Cinched waist, corseted top, small chains draped over her body. It shouldn’t be sexy, but fuck me, it is. A high slit reveals a dark brown thigh and a delicate gold mesh. She looks bold, feminine, and beautiful, and she was all mine.
Ollie lets out a low whistle. I give him a quick side-eye, telling him to stop.
I don’t know when I move up the stairs to get her hand, but I stand there patiently waiting for her to take it.
NOELLE
Don’t fall; reach for his hand…but damn it. Don’t be clumsy, and don’t fall. My heel snags on my dress. I stop and lift my feet. My heel was stuck on the mesh. Delicately, I hold onto the banister. However, Roman is there unhooking my shoe.
“I got you, princess,” he mutters.
Any man calling me a princess would piss me off so bad. But once Roman did it, I liked it. A lot.
“Thank you,” I mutter. His hand feels warm and safe.
“You look stunning,” Liam says with his hands stuffed in his pocket.
“Thank you.”
Roman says nothing. I wish he would say something, anything, but it’s like he is on mute.
Tillie claps. “Okay, let’s have our intimate family dinner because tomorrow is chaos.”
Liam smirks and walks behind Cliff, Tillie, and Ollie.
“You ready?” He asks. His eyes linger on my skin, then my face.
“Are you okay?” I ask, concerned that maybe he didn’t like this dress.
“Yes.”
That’s all I was getting. Short answers. He guides me to walk, but I stop. I don’t know why, but I feel like I need his approval.
“If you don’t like the dress, I have another.” I point up the stairs.
“What?” He shakes his head. “I love it.”
I frown. “You could have fooled me.”
I am pissed that he doesn’t like how I look in this dress. I really want him to like me in this dress.
I walk off with my head held high. Well, if he doesn’t like it, screw him. I love it.
“This is why people tell women to dress for themselves because—”
My body feels like it’s levitating. I am about to scream.
“Shut up.” Roman guides me to the back of a velvet curtain. His body presses against mine.
“Are you feeling that?” He groans in my ear.
