My gut churns as that realization is quickly chased by unease. I don’t want to think that. Ican’tthink that, because it’s crazy. I push the thought away and bring my attention back to the mirror, fixing a smile on my face. And as I gaze at my reflection, it turns into a real, genuine smile.
“Right, I’m ready.” I draw back the curtain and step out. Myles still has his back turned dutifully, and I laugh. “You can look now.”
He spins around with a chuckle, but it dies away when his gaze reaches my dress. “Fuck,” he mutters, gaping at me.
I smooth my hands self-consciously over the navy fabric. “Something alittlemore encouraging might be nice.”
“No—” He takes a step closer. “I mean: Fuck, you look amazing.”
Delight spreads like warm honey through my veins. “Oh.”
“Seriously.” His gaze tracks over me; slow, thorough, ravenous. “Jesus, Cat. You look, uh…” He wipes a hand down his face, letting his dark eyes meet mine as he breathes out hard.
I tilt my lips into a teasing smile. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve seen me dressed up before.”
“Yeah, but not like this. I’ve never seen you wearing something so colorful, so beautiful, so”—he gestures at me vaguely—“you.”
I nod, because he’s right; Idofeel more me in this. More me than I have in ages. “Expectations met, then?”
“Exceeded,” he says roughly. He continues to drink me in with greedy eyes, then groans, wrenching his gaze away.
I laugh. “Whatnow?”
“I shouldn’t stare at you like that, I’m sorry. After what you told me—”
“Myles.” I place a hand on his arm, turning him back to me. “Please stop. You have nothing to worry about, and I don’t want you to change anything, okay?” I resist the urge to add,and you have no idea how much I like it when you look at me like that.
He’s silent and I square my shoulders.
“Look, what happened to me was shit, but I haven’t let it stop me. And I don’t want anyone walking on eggshells around me, thinking I’m some delicate, fragile thing that needs to be handled with care.”
He shakes his head. “You’re not weak, Cat. I’d never think that. But… that’s not going to stop me from wanting to look out for you.”
He glances at the wildflowers sitting on the table and I follow his gaze, smiling. They’re nothing like the impersonal roses Shane sent. They’re just like the flowers in my tattoo, which I’m quite sure is not a coincidence. And here I was thinking that Myles wasn’t the type to give a girl flowers at all.
“Here.” He plucks some kind of blue flower from the bunch and his lips curve into an affectionate smile as he reaches up to tuck it into my hair.
I remember how Shane thought the flower I wore on our date was there by accident, as if I’d fallen head-first into a garden on the way to meet him. The moron. How on earth did I convince myself that something real could happen there?
As Myles places the flower into my hair, I’m struck by the realization that he really does get me. The real me, under all my bullshit. How does he do that?
“Thanks,” I murmur, giving him a shy smile.
He hesitates, his hand lingering beside me, and my heart flips as I think he’s going to lean closer—to touch me, to kiss me... But he lets his hand drop, hooking his mouth into a grin. “Okay, let’s go make Mark’s night miserable.”
23
My stomach seesaws with nerves as I knock on Claudia’s heavy oak door. I haven’t seen her in years and I never really felt like I fitted in with this crowd, in this place—a four-story pre-war brownstone, just off Park Avenue. And now, here I am on her doorstep, in a frilly dress with pink hair. What have I let Myles talk me into?
He slides his hand into mine, as if he can sense my anxiety. I wait for him to give it a quick squeeze and release it, but he doesn’t. He just keeps it tucked inside his own warm palm.
I glance at him with a funny smile. “What are you doing?”
“I’m your stand-in boyfriend. We’re supposed to be in love, aren’t we?”
“Right. Yes.”
“So there’s going to be lots of hand holding, lots of kissing…” His gaze drops to my lips and they tingle, as if they can feel it. “Not your mouth, I know. But if we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, we need to act like we’re in love.” He allows himself a cocky little grin. “I wouldn’t be surprised if by the end of the night you actuallydofall in love with me.”
