"I'm sure you and Stacia want to catch up."
With that, I entered the dressing room, shutting the door and resting my head against the slats.
"Is she okay?" Stacia asked, speaking quietly, her voice muffled though the frame.
"I hope so," Tolliver said back.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing."
A beat of silence.
"Seriously, Stass, I didn't do anything."
"You better not have. She's my future stepsister."
"I know."
"I've always wanted a sister, Toll."
"Stass, come on."
I stepped back and stopped listening. So what if they had a connection—one close enough that they'd given each othernicknames, I mentally added. Stacia was tanned and toned, beautiful with her long lashes and swimmer's body. Looks-wise she'd be a good match for Tolliver, and they were both athletes. Maybe she was the one. Stacia could very well be Tolliver's girl, the one he wanted to impress. Friends to lovers, especially when you grew up with them, was one of my favorite tropes. But...a feeling bloomed in my gut that I didn't recognize. Jealousy. I didn't have a lot of experience with the emotion, but I was pretty certain that's what this was.
Shaking my head, I looked to the dresses Stacia had picked out and sighed.
There had to be at least a dozen.
Best to get it over with.
The first dress was a simple sky blue A-line.
I couldn't help but think it matched Tolliver's eyes.
When I walked out so Stacia could see, he sat up and said, "I like that one."
"Me too," I said with a shrug. "Though it is a little loose around the middle."
"We could have that taken in," Stacia said, circling until she was standing in front of me again. "How do you feel in it?"
"Good."
"Just good?"
"Very good," I tried, but Stacia shook her head.
"Next," she said.
I didn't argue, mainly because she'd gone to the trouble of arranging this so I wouldn't show up at my mother's wedding looking like a raggamuffin. When I came out in dress two, Tolliver and Stacia were still there.
"Pretty," she said. "And a better fit than dress one. What do you think, Freya?"
"I like it," I said, though I wasn't loving the slightly itchy feel of the tulle, brushing against my legs.
"Toll?"
"I like it too," he said.
