“Actually, no. Take it off.”
She pauses halfway through adjusting the fabric.
“I haven’t even finished yet—”
“No need to bother. That outfit is a guaranteed no,” I interrupt. “You said we’re going out, Adelaide. That looks too much like you on a normal day. Add a leather jacket and nobody would notice a difference.”
She rolls her eyes.
“And that is a problem because?”
“Because we’re choosing a dress.”
Adelaide looks offended by the suggestion.
“Ashthorne, not everyone enjoys living in dresses the way you do. They’re a bloody nightmare. Especially the tight ones. One wrong move and the entire room gets a free show.”
“You are so dramatic.”
I lean forward and start digging through the pile of clothes until one dress finally catches my eye.
It’s a rich emerald green colour, the material catches the light perfectly, and the second I see it, I just know.
“This.” I hold it out for her.
She takes it sceptically and pulls it on.
The dress hugs every curve in exactly the right way, and the low neckline puts her full breasts on display.
“Lose the bra.”
She raises a brow but does it anyway.
Then she turns towards the mirror, runs her hands over her hips, and tilts her head slightly.
“Mm. Perhaps you were right.” A smug smile appears on her lips. “I might even get laid tonight. Loosen up a little. With this dress, it shouldn’t be difficult.”
I laugh. “Please. You could wear a bin bag and men would still line up for you.”
“Maybe I should lose the panties too.” She lifts a brow suggestively. “Wouldn’t want lines showing through the dress.”
“You’re impossible.”
She puts on a pair of black heeled boots, then throws one of her leather jackets over her shoulders.
I follow her out of the bedroom and into the living room.
She grabs the bag abandoned on the sofa, checks the bullets in her gun, then shoves it inside along with her phone and keys.
“Let’s go.”
I nod, and together we make our way downstairs.
A car already waits for us in front of the dorm.
I can’t stop myself from glancing towards the building beside ours, and I hate the way my eyes drift there on instinct. As though some part of me expects to seehim.
My professor.
