With a deep breath, I strut forward, summoning my imaginary confidence as the others spin to face me and immediately start gushing.
“¡Estás preciosa!” Mia says... or is it Nia?
“Sí, me encanta,” the other one adds.
The first girl nods in agreement.
“Um? What?” I’m suddenly regretting that I took French in high school.
“Mia said you look amazing, and I can’t help but agree,” Maya says, rushing to grab my hands. “Who knew pink was your color?”
“Not me . . .”
I’ve never considered myself a girly-girl. Despite my best friend Nova trying to convert me to her ritzy tastes when we were growing up. But it seemed pointless to obsess over expensive makeup, designer clothes, oversized handbags, or trendy shoes when my family could barely afford our next meal. Not to mention all my newly acquired medical bills that racked up since I turned my life around.
“It’s a little snug,” I say, running my hands from my waist to my hips.
“It’s supposed to be tight,” Mia says through a heavy accent.
“That’s the style.” Nia pops out her hip and winks. “Gotta flaunt it, right?”
Flaunt what? I glance down at my own shape, feeling like a preteen compared to the way their dresses cling to their hourglass figures. With their tan complexion, the pink glows on their skin, reminding me of an exotic flower in bloom. Meanwhile, my pale skin appears translucent and ghostlike.Jeez... I need to get outside more and stop working at the auto shop so much.
“No sour faces, because you look stunning.” Maya’s expression softens, and a warm smile spreads across her face. “As I knew you would.”
My eyes mist at her expression. The same one she reserves for her close family members, like I’m already her sister. I didn’t realize how much I wanted it to be true until now.
“Agh. Don’t you start crying, or I’ll start.” Maya fans her face.
“And if you start, the rest of us will start too,” Julia adds, tears already pooling in her eyes.
I laugh, shaking my head and swiping a stray tear away. “Sorry! I’ll keep it together.”
Maya rushes over to give me a quick side hug before returning to her bridal duties, and I join Lola in line for alterations, removing more sparkly residue from my skin as I wait.
“Hey, ladies. I hope you don’t mind me crashing the party.”
The deep voice has me jerking upright so quickly that I nearly rip a side seam.
“Dang, Reese’s Cup. You clean up nice.”
There’s only one person in the world that calls me by that cringe-worthy candy nickname.
Tristenthe-bane-of-my-existenceDavis. The fact that I run into this man on a daily basis in our small mountain town of Rocosa is one thing. But now I’m two towns away. Colorado is a big state, yet it’s impossible to escape him.
The man is like a boomerang. No matter how hard I push him away, he returns, more annoying than ever.
And it’s not just the nickname that grates on my nerves. Everything about him drives me crazy. The way he always thinks he’s right and doesn’t listen. Or that he’s always underfoot and in my business or asking about me like he has some kind of say in my life. Or how being in his presence reminds me of every stupid mistake I’ve ever made, since he’s had a front row seat for all of them.
Ugh.That last one.
Yeah, Tristen has seen me at my worst. Seen me unconscious on the floor in his bar after too many drinks. Seen me hungover and disheveled on Des’s couch, mascara streaks down my face. And when I was nearly kidnapped by my ex-boyfriend? Yep, he was there. He morphed into hero mode, punching Burns unconscious with one swing and then proceeding to lecture me in the ER about it. I don’t remember much about that night due to my head injury, but his scolding? That I remember crystal clear.
“You have to be more careful, Reese. I can’t always be here watching over you,” he said, shaking my shoulders so hard my teeth rattled.
I roll my eyes. Like I need him to babysit me.
Tristen’s slate blue eyes rake down my gown, raising my body temperature with each passing second. The constant control I pride myself on slips since my body’s reaction never seems to be on the same annoyed page about him as my brain is. I don’t want to be attracted to him, yet that doesn’t stop my heart from fluttering whenever we make eye contact.
