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That we were both on the same track had my heart feeling full. I kissed her cheek too, and whispered, “I think we’ve both found our places.”
“I know we have,” was her strident reply. “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“You will.”
“The Plaza, eleven AM. It’s okay if you have to cancel, but it’d be cool for you to meet them properly. They’re really nice.” She pulled a face. “Don’t mention what we talked about, though. It might get Aoife upset.”
“I’ll be there and I won’t say anything,” I promised her, making a silent vow that I’d stand up to Brennan about this if he decided we were going out somewhere else.
I wasn’t going to say that I let him steamroll over me all the time—even if he pretty much did. But I was still finding my footing.
“I can’t wait,” she said with a little squeal, before she shot me a wave and pretty much danced out of the living room.
When she was gone, the elevator letting out a few beeps as she departed, I peered at myself in the mirror. I’d spent too much time looking into the damn thing, but I wanted to be Brennan’s idea of a dream date. Silly, sure, but why wouldn’t I want to be that, especially when he was mine?
When Innie had invited herself over for coffee to see my dresses, I’d thought she was a welcome distraction from fretting about Nyx, but that hadn’t been the case. I hadn’t thought about him or the Sinners once. Compassion for Quin filled me, but that was it. No more, no less, and it was such a weight off my heart to take a step forward without the past shadowing every move I made.
I’d spent months pining for the man, wringing my hands over him and what would never be, and in a week, Brennan had turned my world on its head.
“It’s amazing what a couple dozen orgasms will do to a girl’s confidence,” I muttered under my breath, but my grin was wry as I gave my make-up a final check.
Innie was right—I did look happy.
For the first time in too long, I wasn’t digging my nails into my palms, wasn’t even tempted to seek out my kit. I didn’t doubt that the urges would come and go, but this week, my palms were getting a much needed chance to heal.
Deciding I was done, I wandered down the hall to the bedroom, dropping the bathrobe I’d put on earlier for ease with changing once my hair and make-up was set.
I’d showered before I started getting ready, so I stepped into the garter belt and slipped on my stockings. There’d been no mistaking how much Brennan had loved those, so it made me smile to put on a different set—black silk, with a black and silver filigree detailing on the bands.
That was pretty much it for undergarments.
It was risqué but I didn’t care. I wanted the picture he’d painted this morning for me.
I wanted him to be able to slip his hand between my legs and for him to feel my pussy. I wanted to dance with him in a busy crowd, and for him to be able to touch me how he wanted.
Biting my lip at just the thought, making me grateful that I’d yet to apply lipstick, I tried to ignore the way my body lit up but it wasn’t that easy. Not when my nips were so erect I could probably hang my dress off them.
Grinning, I eyed said dress as I slipped into it. Like this morning, it cupped my body like it was made for me, and as expensive as it was, it was still off the rack, but you’d never tell.
It swayed and swung with every movement, and the split was just a few scant inches from baring all.
I resettled my breasts, and grabbed some tit tape that would hopefully keep them in place, then looked at myself.
I wore the star pendant that had started this entire madcap journey, the dress, and nothing else, and I looked good.
“You look better than good,” I whispered under my breath, accepting it.
Embracingit.
I did.
With my hair curled the way it was, in thick waves that I’d set with a few pins, I looked like Marilyn Monroe—just a skinnier version.
I’d picked up a pair of high heels too, strappy things that were dangerous, and all the more beautiful for it. Just a single strap at the ankle and a point at the toe were all that were keeping me attached to six inches of stiletto.
Everything about today’s look was different than before.
BN—Before Nyx.
