“Just curious,” I lie.
Molly sighs, shaking her head, but she’s smiling. “Fine. Ask away.”
“Do you like strawberries?”
“Yeah?”
“What about waffles?”
“They're okay.”
“Do you prefer tea or coffee?”
“Tea. Though I really like iced coffee.”
“Do you—”
“Okay, what’s up?” Molly cuts me off, turning to face me fully, her hands going to her hips. “You’re acting weird.”
“I'm not acting weird,” I lie, my heartbeat mocking me as it booms inside my chest.
Molly raises her eyebrows. “Uh-huh. Then why are you asking me all these random questions?”
“Just trying to get to know you better,” I say lamely. It’s the truth, but it’s not the whole truth, and she knows it.
She narrows her eyes. “Niall.”
“Let's try on dresses.”
She relents, but not without a strange look. We head over to the dressing rooms, a little alcove off the main shopping floor with a trio of curtained cubicles and a large, tri-fold mirror. She gathers a bunch of the dresses in her arms and brings them in with her, telling me to wait right outside.
I feel like an idiot, running my hands down my face trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with me. How hard is it to ask her a simple question? Just ask her to the dance. It’s not like she’s gonna reject me.
This girl knows all my darkest secrets, and I know hers. Somehow, those conversations feel like a molehill compared to the mountain in front of me.
“Niall!” Molly calls from inside the room. “Can you come in for a second? I need help.”
I steel myself, opening the door and slipping inside the dressing room. She’s standing in front of the mirror inside the room—a smaller version of the one in the alcove just outside the little dressing rooms. The glittering sky blue dress is open in the back, and she’s holding it closed with one hand.
“Help?” she asks, looking at me in the mirror, her cheeks flushed.
I swallow. The dress is sleeveless, and the front is glittered with silver jewels that remind me of the white flecks in her eyes, the way they shine when she laughs. The bodice clings to her waist, and the skirt flows out like waves crashing into the shore.
I step closer, reaching out to pull the zipper up the rest of the way. My fingers brush against her bare skin, and she shivers slightly.
“You look beautiful,” I murmur, meeting her eyes in the mirror.
She turns around to face me, her fingers twisting in the fabric. “Really?”
“You're always beautiful,” I say honestly.
Molly smiles softly. “Thank you.”
I can't help myself but gather up her hair, twisting it up so I can see the back of the dress better. “This one’s my favorite.”
“Mine too,” she admits quietly.
I lean down, pressing a kiss to the bare skin between her shoulder blades, before letting her hair drop back down. “Then I guess this is the one.”
