My eyes slip down her face, to the flush crawling up her dainty, pale throat. I ache to run a knuckle up that skin just to see if I can feel her pulse beneath it.
Is it racing as fast as mine?
“No. It wouldn’t matter if you did. Nothing can happen here.”
She presses her lips more firmly together before parting them. Her nails pinch the fabric of my shirt. “Why not? Because I can already tell we’d have fun.A lotof it.”
“You’re Wesley’s sister, Brielle. That’s a boundary I won’t cross.”Amongst other reasons that I’m too ashamed to tell you about.
“That’s a weak excuse. I can tell that you want me the way I want you. You’re making this seem one-sided, but I know it isn’t.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I bite out, exhaling roughly. Her waist is so soft beneath my hand, and I know it’s only a taste of what’s hidden beneath the rest of her clothes. “I’ve already made my choice. If you’re going to be in Evie’s life and around the clubhouse with your brother, this needs to be put aside.”
“And by this, you mean the insane connection, right? The sexual chemistry that’s eating at you the way it’s eating at me, making me feel so fucking insane around you that I’m not thinking about those pesky excuses,” she murmurs, settling her hand flush to my chest, the weight of it branding me through my shirt.
“Yes,” I hiss, slipping my hand further around the back of her head until I can loop my fingers through her hair. For a moment, I let my conscience fade and focus solely on the want building low in my gut. “Yes, Brielle. But you already fucking knew that.”
“Just give in. Nobody has to know.”
Her perfume swarms me, encouraging me to move closer, to take what she’s offering me just this once. It would be so easy to reach down and lift her thigh around my waist. She’d cry my name into this dark alley when I pulled her panties aside and plunged my fingers deep into her soft pussy?—
My muscles turn to lead when I remember that I’ve already watched her do that to herself.
I release her hair and breathe her in one last time. I’ve already dropped my hand from her waist when I lower my head and drag a brief, hard kiss across her forehead.
“Go inside,” I command, already retreating far enough that she can’t easily close the distance again.
Alone in the alleyway, I watch her slowly open her eyes and touch her forehead. I expect anger to twist her features, but instead, the ghost of a smile lights her face before she turns and walks away.
Disbelief claws at me as I stay rooted in place and watch her until she’s walking safely into her apartment building and out of my sight. And still, I linger long enough that when I finally find my way back to my car, I have to lie to Evie about what I was doing.
Regret clings to me the entire drive home.
14
BRIELLE
Staring down at my notebook,I roll my eyes at the half-assed attempt at a new romper design before roughly erasing the hemline. I bring it lower this time, having it flirt with the inch of thigh above the knee. From experience, I know how annoying it is when a romper crawls up your ass while you walk. That’s what I’ve been trying to avoid.
From the prior three prototypes I’ve put together over the last few weeks, I’m failing.
I tune out the roar of the stadium around me and lean down to blow the eraser shavings off the page. The pink pencil in my hand feels more like a five-pound dumbbell as I add some dimension to the waistline. It’s still too form-fitting, which isn’t my vision, either.
Soft Body is supposed to be about representing all bodies, regardless of their shape and size. Each piece I create is stitched together with comfort in mind, and that’s one thing I won’t budge on, regardless of how many times I need to erase and resketch a design.
I’ve lost count of the number of brands I’ve seen that don’t give a shit about larger bodies. There are very distinct differences that come when making clothing for the extra-smallto extra-large size range versus plus sizes. What flatters a small body is not always going to flatter a larger body, and business owners need to start investing money and resources into making sure they’re not just adding more material to a design and calling it a day. There are parts of every piece of clothing that need to be adjusted and crafted a bit differently to flatter someone who’s plus-size.
And that’s the gap in the industry that I’m trying to fill.
No more tight busts, sleeves that pinch the thickest part of the arm, or the gaping in the back of jeans because they were made without thought of someone who carries more of their weight in their ass and thighs rather than their stomach.
With a sigh, I flare out the bottom portion of the hem and create more of a skirt-type bottom around the thigh.
“Earth to Brielle. Are you with me?”
I snap my head up and flash Aubrey a broad smile. “Of course I am. Why, did something happen?”
“You’d know if you were actually watching the game.”
