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“Nope.”
“We removed the mirror from his bathroom.” Scarlett bit her lip, and Penelope swatted at her.
“Oh my gosh, someone get this boy a mirror,” Penelope yelled.
“On it,” Thorne hollered, then disappeared into the kitchen where I heard my mother’s voice and groaned, because I knew it meant she and Bat Man would come out to see me.
Sure enough, a moment later, they tentatively stepped into the living room while Thorne ran up the stairs, per her instruction. Her lips parted, and for a moment, her face hovered between disbelief and awe before she murmured, “Oh, Barry.” She covered her mouth with one hand. “You look . . .” At a loss for words, she stepped forward and pulled me into a hug.
Over her shoulder, my gaze landed on Bat Man, who stood wordlessly, his dark gaze eyeing me with barely restrained distaste. But before he could say anything, Thorne appeared with the full-length mirror my mom kept on the back of her bedroom door.
Setting it down in front of him, he leaned the reflective glass against his chest as he asked, “You ready for this?”
A trickle of excitement seeped into my veins like a shot of espresso, racing straight through my limbs, making me antsy. “Ready.”
Thorne stepped away from the mirror, turning it as he did.
Everyone around me grew quiet and still. My gaze focused on the man reflected back at me. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but as I stared at my reflection, I knew it wasn’t this.
All the air rushed from my lungs as I took in this new person. Part of me expected to see an orangey-brown caricature of myself at worst, a nerd playing dress-up at best. But what I saw far exceeded any of my expectations.
My complexion was subtly tanned, like I’d just spent a week at the beach. My nearly white blond hair had been warmed with several shades of honey, cut close to the sides of my head but longer on top and styled in a slightly messy swoop to one side. Hollywood hair, I would’ve called it before today.
Without the glasses, my jaw appeared sharper, squarer, and my eyes more green than hazel. The tuxedo fit me to perfection. Proof quality mattered, along with having someone who dressed people for a living.
I was me, but not. I was Barry 2.0.
“I look . . .” I swallowed, my throat swelling with emotion as Scarlett came up beside me, resting her chin on my shoulder.
Her eyes met mine in the mirror. “Like a movie star?” she finished for me. “Yeah, we know.”
Off to the side, Mom watched on, tears glistening in her eyes while Bat Man lounged against the wall with a bored expression.
“Just remember”—Penelope joined us, placing a hand on my arm—“this only amplifies how amazing you are. All we did was put tinsel on the tree.”
I snorted. Of all the dorky analogies.
“I’m the Christmas tree in this scenario?”
“Yes.”
“Now . . .” Thorne said as he reached out and took my hand, then dropped something into my palm. “Go sweep her off her feet.”
When I glanced down at my hand, the key fob to his car stared back up at me. My mouth dropped as I glanced out the windows to the Lamborghini outside.
“Seriously?”
“You gotta arrive in style, right? Your chariot awaits.”
Chapter 22
ELLA
Isetmyphoneon the dresser in front of me, trying to erase Adam’s most recent text from my thoughts.Come on, Ella. You can’t stay mad at me forever. You know you want me.
Was he right? What if I secretly wanted him, and I’d fashioned this whole Prince Charming, screen-worthy romance thing as a distraction? It brough to mind what Mia had said at The Broken Record, of me trying to set her up as a deflection to avoid my own feelings.
Or was I simply guarding my heart?a tiny voice inside whispered. Because as long as I held the bar too high, no one could reach it.
