“This is it.” Lyla sets her hands on her hips.
I twist, surveying all my exposed places. “This dress is tiny.”
She laughs. “Ry, I brought the ones with the most material that wouldn’t look like you shopped in the mother-of-the-bride section.” She runs her hands over the material at my waist to smooth it. “You look amazing, and that hot football player is going to forget you’re his personal protection for the evening.”
“Great. I don’t want him to forget that,” I mumble.
She leans in, wrapping her arms around me. “It’d be ok if he did. It’d also be ok if, for once, you let someone see you that way.As a woman.” She squeezes me. “Besides, even Tracker likes him. If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.”
I groan. “You’ve been hanging out with Jamie too much. She’s gotten to you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She plops on the bed while I pull on sweatpants and a T-shirt. “So, his friend is going with you guys? Will that be weird?”
I’ve steered clear of the two men today. I have no idea what Cole told Nick last night when he arrived, but before I left them to do what men do, I could see in his eyes that he was finally starting to unwind.
Cole’s been tense and stiff since getting off the bus. I think all of this is finally catching up with him, but over the past twenty-four hours, I’ve heard him laugh and joke and be the man I have no doubt has been begging to come out of that strong body.
“It might make it easier.”
“Ry,” she whines, flopping back on the bed. “Cole won’t do anything that will cause you to go all Mr. Miyagi on his ass. He cares about you. He was worried when you took off to help Kelsey.”
I don’t want him to care about me. Nothing good will come from that.
“It’s easy for you to say. You don’t have issues with people seeing your body or touching you.” The words come out, and I immediately regret them. “I’m sorry. I’m just. . . ” I fill my cheeks with air and blow it out, sitting next to her.
“Don’t be sorry. We all have our things.”
I know we do, and Lyla’s are different than mine, but it doesn’t mean they don’t also make her feel as if she’s being skinned alive.
I lie down next to her. “You’re heading back to New York?”
“Yeah. I have a gig and need to meet with some sponsors. Then I’m off to Paris for a fashion event.”
“Don’t stay away so long this time. We miss you.”
Lyla has been gone for longer and longer stints, which, on one hand, is good, but it’s too quiet around the house without her.
“Yeah, well, Jos is waiting for one of us to say we’re out for good so she can steal our room.” She sits up. “I’d better get going. I need to pack.”
I gather the dresses. “Thanks for helping me.”
She grins. “Are you kidding? This was a dream come true. You’ll kick ass in that dress. Hopefully, not literally this time, though.”
My head falls back toward the ceiling, and I know she’s grinning.
“What is it your bestie says? Dance, jump on it. If you sexy. . . ” She sings, dancing toward the door.
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but laugh. “Maybe you should go with him.”
“I’d be down to cover you, but I don’t have your spidey senses, so I’ll have to decline.”
She pulls open the door, and we step out to find both men drenched in sweat and guzzling sports drinks.
“Hey, Lyla,” Cole says, twisting the cap back on his empty bottle.
Nick’s gaze land on Lyla, and though he doesn’t even flinch, he notices her. All guys do, but his observance remains douche free.
“Nick, this is—”
