“Promise to dance and swoon and totally squirt if he takes you into a dark corner at the ball and fingers your pretty pussy?”
“Jesus, River!” My stomach somersaults. I nearly combust.
A pause.
“Did you really call him Sir?” she teases.
“Oh, my God! I am so not talking about this with you right now.”
A bright, sparkling sound leaves her mouth. “Swear to come out of your shell, and I’ll shut up.”
I reach for the next dress. It’s deep pink—apologetically my favorite color—shimmering, with an off-the-shoulder neckline and a twist-knot detail at the bust. The back is completely open, and the skirt flares out in a perfect A-line.
I step into it, pulling it up over my hips, and the fabric settles against my skin like it was made for me.
“I swear.”
Once I acknowledge it, I feel something shift. A prickling thrill. Eagerness swirling low in my belly, unraveling its old knots.
“Okay, come on out and show,” River calls.
“I like this one,” I say softly.
I open the door, and River steps out at the same time.
She’s wearing a strapless gold gown that shimmers like lightning, the fabric clinging to her curves and flaring at the bottom. It’s stunning against her long, dark hair and lighter olive skin. Total goddess energy.
But she’s not looking at herself. Her mouth falls open at the sight of me. “Lex. Oh my God.Lex!”
I glance down at myself, suddenly self-conscious. The pink sequined dress catches the light, sparkling like garnets. The sleeves frame my collarbone, and the bust detail makes my chest seem…well, more impressive than usual. The open back shows just enough skin to be daring, and the A-line skirt swishes when I move.
“Do a twirl,” River demands.
I spin slowly. The skirt flares out, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
I look…different. Like someone confident. And beautiful. I mean, I know I’m beautiful, but this is captivatingly beautiful. River could cause a ten-car pileup just by walking across the street. But I think I could cause heads to turn just enough so they don’t notice they’re walking straight into River’s leftover mechanical carnage.
“Perfect choice,” River flashes a thumbs-up. “Makes your tits stand out more.”
I sigh, but it’s more playful. “River?—”
“I’ve a mind to agree.”
I freeze.
Turning, I find Liam standing at the end of the hallway, smirking while leaning against the wall, arms crossed. On his head sits the newsboy cap. With the fake glasses, he gives off a dangerous, 1920s gangster who just stepped out of a speakeasy.
My heart stutters.
“And buíochas.” He nods to River, “My thanks for the Gaelic thirst trap and heartthrob. And aye, she did call me Sir.” His attention shifts to me, dark and hungry. “And I am wantin’ to know more about this panties scene.”
White shock hits my chest. “How much did you?—”
“Enough.” His grin spreads.
River’s brows dance. “How it started was?—”
“Nope!” I spin and dash back into the fitting room, my heart pounding.
