I look down at my chest. “Too short, you think?”
She turns for her bathroom and I watch her walk.
“Too tight around the chest,” she tosses over her shoulder.
“You never know. Black is slimming.”
I say the words absently. I’m unable to take my gaze off the hem of her dress and the way it skims the top of her thighs. Her skin looks so soft. There are freckles everywhere. I’ve noticed the ones on her shoulders before, but her thighs? She has freckles on the backs of herthighsand I can’t handle it.
Thigh freckles were made for a tongue. It should be a law of nature.
My tongue, specifically.
“Tristan. Hello.” She pokes her head out of the bathroom. “What are you doing here?” She’s clearly repeating herself, and I look at the bottle in my hands. This feels dumb. I hide it behind my back. My eyes dart to the corner of her living room, where there’s aMonstera. I can stick it behind one of the massive leaves.
I take a step back toward the plant. “Came to see if you needed help getting ready.”
Her brows tug down. She knows I didn’t know about the date. “Really?”
“Really. What are friends for?” I swallow and shift on my feet.
I feel like I did as a kid. The second choice. Pressure constricts my throat. She’s been kissing me and going out with me and I assumed—what? That she’d save her Friday night just because I did?
Idiot.This isn’t real. Katie doesn’t want to practice. She wants to go on a date with Seth. She wants to find someone she can fall in love with.
“Well thanks.” Her grin is bright and she disappears back into the bathroom. I hastily stick the bottle behind the plant and fluff the leaves so they hide it. I’ll grab it later and she’ll be none the wiser.
“So what help do you need?”
There’s a crash from inside the bathroom.
“Bailey?”
She growls. “Hair is impossible.”
There she is.I strangle a laugh. “Can I come in?”
“Yes,” she huffs.
The bathroom is a disaster. Katie’s phone is propped up against the mirror, and makeup is smeared on the counter. A hairdryer sits dangerously close to the tub, and I discreetly move it away while she glares at her reflection.
I swallow a laugh and watch her stare herself down.
“That bad?”
She lifts her still-damp hair. “I’m trying to do the hair like the stylist did it, and I’ve watched like fifty videos and I still can’t do it.”
Her hair is wild and damp around her shoulders, like a siren rising from the sea. I can’t believe how long she spent hiding it. Seth is going to choke on his tongue.
“It looks fine to me.”
She scowls and I want to kick myself. Fine isn’t a compliment. It’s not even what I meant to say.
“It’s not fine. I’m hopeless.” She sighs and the sound goes straight to my heart.
“You’re not hopeless.” I snag one of the silky-looking strands and rub it between my fingers. “I’ll help.”
Her mouth lifts at the corner. “You’re going to do my hair?”
