I’d been in this room hundreds of times, but I’d never really noticed that photo before.
“So,” Ellie’s voice rang out from the closet, “I thought you could help me figure out what to donate and what to keep from my closet.”
“Um,” I called back, “wouldn’t that job be better suited for Aspen or Penny? Hell, even Theo?”
She laughed. “Aspen and Penny would convince me to keepeverything. And Theo would burn it all without a second thought. You, though, you’re the balanced middle I need. Emotional support and practicality.”
A moment later, she emerged wearing a sky-blue turtleneck sweater with delicate stripes stitched into the fabric, paired with the same denim cutoffs she had on all afternoon.
She did a little spin. “Well?”
I blinked. “It’s nice,” I said, shifting back onto her bed and settling in. I had a feeling this was going to be a process.
“Nice?” she repeated, raising a brow and running a hand down the front of the sweater. “I’m gonna need more thannice, thank you very much.”
Sighing dramatically, I leaned against her headboard, crossing one ankle over the other. “Ellie, we live in Texas. Do youreallythink you need a turtleneck sweater?”
She snapped her fingers and pointed at me with a victorious smile. “That’s the logic I’m looking for! Donate pile it is.”
Then, without hesitation, she grabbed the hem and tugged the sweater over her head.
My brain short-circuited for a second.
Underneath, she wore a lace bra, delicate and pale against her skin.
My heart jumped to my throat. I snapped my gaze away, dragging a hand down my face as I stared at the ceiling like it held some kind of distraction.
“Come on, El.” My voice came out breathy and thin.
“Oh, please. You’ve seen me in a bikini. What’s the difference?”
She was unfazed, simply turned on her heel and disappeared back into the closet as if nothing had happened.
But I was still sitting there—skin buzzing, thoughts scrambled—trying to pretend I hadn’t just had the wind knocked out of me by a girl I’d known since I was eight years old.
God help me, she’s gorgeous.
Not that I needed the reminder.
Ellie popped in and out of her closet like a whirlwind, modeling everything from cozy sweaters to tank tops and jeans. I saw it all.
We made our way through her wardrobe, sorting each piece with efficiency. Honestly, we created a pretty impressive donation pile.
“Why are you trying to downsize this much anyway?” I asked, reaching for another handful of chips she’d brought out to keep us fueled. “You could just keep some of this stuff here.”
“Because,” she called from inside the closet, “now’s as good a time as any to get rid of what doesn’t serve me. Why hold on to things that don’t have a purpose anymore?”
“Fair enough,” I replied, crunching on a chip.
“Besides,” she added, “it leaves room for new clothes.”
A moment later, she stepped out of the closet—no longer in casual clothes, but in a dress that made time stop.
Gone were soft cotton and denim. In their place was silk.
A rich emerald-green dress clung to every curve of her body, the fabric catching the light as she walked. It hugged her in all the right places, a perfect contrast against her skin. Her bare feet padded softly across the floor as she made her way to the full-length mirror, studying herself with a slight tilt of her head.
But then—I saw it. That flicker in her expression, the faint crease between her brows. Dissatisfaction.
