“I am not poor, but I do have two very annoying sisters.” I state.
“Ahh, did you hear that, Mac? She said we’re like sisters.”
“Do you really think this is okay?” I stare at myself in the mirror. I have worn dresses over the years here and there. Mostly for reconnaissance purposes. I would wear anything; even the black dress I had thrown on to go to the club was just a dress. I had no preference for any particular one. It was doing what it was supposed to be doing.
This one, however, I really like, which makes me think it can’t be cute. Cute, I want to be cute. Interesting.
“I could not pull it off, but you can,” Mac says. Bonte nods in agreement.
“It’s your frame,” Bonte encourages. “He did good.”
Paxton had sent it over when I had agreed to this evening, knowing I likely didn’t bring anything that would work. He was prepared. I’m not sure what it is about him picking out my clothing that works for me. I found it sweet. That he was thinking ahead. More than that, it feels as though I’m being taken care of. It’s intimate.
A date—it’s a first for me. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to having some feelings about it. Ones I’m not used to. Or maybe I am but in different ways. Never have I been excited or anticipated something when it had to do with romance before.
I’d been pissed when he’d asked, before I realized who the woman was to him. Then I’d thought about him going to this event alone. I didn’t much care for that either. Paxton is too handsome for everyone’s own good. It could really get a person killed.
I do a slight turn in the mirror.
When Bonte pulled this dress out of the garment bag, I thought there was a mix-up. It appeared to be a tuxedo jacket. I put it on, and then Bonte clipped the front closed and used some tape to ensure it stayed in place for the deep V design.
“It’s fucking hot.” Mac is no longer paying attention to her computer, so this must be true. I slip on the black heels, grateful that I have experience wearing them so I won’t look like an idiot or bust my ass.
“It has pockets,” I point out. Mom would love that. “Will you take a picture?” I ask.
“Really?” Bonte sounds surprised.
“She’ll send it to her mom,” Mac says before I can respond.
“It will make her smile.”
Bonte takes the picture for me before finishing up her final touches on my makeup. “Holy hell, I love this so much.”
“It is nice.” I agree with her.
“And the kiss, Nix would fall over and die if she witnessed it firsthand. I’m not even sure she’s going to believe how swoony it actually was.”
“I enjoy the kissing.” Far more than I ever thought I would. It’s the way it makes my whole body come alive. Is that what people experience when they take drugs? I could see why that would be addictive.
Is Paxton like a drug to me? Is he giving me little tastes of him and his life to get me hooked on him? If that is his plan, it’s working. What I don’t know is if that’s bad. This is supposed to be about convenience, and this feeling is anything but convenient at the moment.
“You sound really surprised by that, but I’m not.” Bonte slides a silver clip into my hair, holding the curls back from my face. It matches the metal on the button of the dress. Then she rights the choker I have on too.
“I was.” Hell, I was more than shocked. Bonte snorts a laugh.
“It takes the right one to come along. I mean I didn’t think I’d be into a man chasing me through the woods before pinning me down to the ground and having his way with me.”
“He chased you through the woods?” Did I hear her correctly?
“I’ve said too much.” Bonte’s cheeks start to flush.
“Why did he chase you through the woods?” This surprises me. Bonte is scared of the dark, or used to be.
I walk over and sit down next to Mac, who is now lying down on the couch, her legs over the arm on one side, swinging back and forth. They did stop swinging momentarily at Bonte’s admission.
“I don’t know. Kinks?”
“Kinks.” I don’t want to think of my cousin Eros in such a way, but when I picture Paxton chasing me, one of those thrills rushes through me, my heartbeat accelerating. I shift in my seat.
