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I ignored him, leaving the kitchen and making my way down the hall to the staircase. “Shortcake?” I called, jogging up the stairs, taking two at a time.
“Just a minute,” she replied, but I heard the crack in her voice. The uncertainty.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing. I’ll be right out.”
“Seriously, Aurora, if there’s a problem with the costume, we can—”
The door swung open to reveal her standing there in the yellow and white dress Connor had managed to rent.
“What—holy shit.”
My jaw dropped as I took in the full effect. It hugged her body like a glove, cinching at the waist and flaring out at her hips. But the pièce de resistance was the corset top. It scooped low on her chest and left nothing to the imagination.
It was quite possible I’d died and gone to cleavage heaven.
“It’s too small, I know.” She turned around and walked to the mirror, tugging and pulling at the material. “I can’t go like this. I look—”
“Hot. You look… Hot. As. Fuck, shortcake.”
“Noah,” she sighed. “You don’t have to do that.”
“What is it you think I’m doing? Because I’m telling you now, if we let you leave the house looking like that, we’re going to spend the entire night fighting guys off.”
Shit. Why did that make my chest squeeze? The idea of my teammates seeing her like this. Leering at her body. Filling their dirty little minds with all kinds of fantasies.
“You really think it looks okay?” Her gaze snagged on mine in the mirror.
I closed the distance between us until I stood right behind her. “I don’t want to tempt fate, shortcake, but you could seriously improve our chances of winning the cup. You look…”
Amazing.
She looked fucking amazing.
Aurora blushed, lowering her eyes a little bit as she held my stare. The air turned thick, the stupid fucking costume I was in growing at least two sizes smaller until I was sure the damn thing would suffocate me half to death.
“I don’t. Noah, I’m not sure I can leave the house looking like… like this.” Her voice was a shaky whisper.
I grabbed the long blonde wig off her bed and stood behind her. “You don’t have to be yourself tonight. Costume parties are about dressing up and being someone else for the night.”
“Hiding, you mean,” she scoffed as if the idea offended her.
“You call it hiding, but I call it”—I gathered her ponytail up and slid the wig over her head, straightening it out until the blonde locks spilled over her shoulders like a golden waterfall—“living out a fantasy. You’re not Aurora Hart tonight,” I said. “You’re Goldilocks. A powerful, confident woman who manages to wrestle and defeat three bears. I’d say that makes you pretty badass.”
“Hmm, Noah, I’m not sure what fairy tale you read growing up, but I’m pretty sure there’s no bear wrestling involved.”
“There’s not?” I smirked. “Huh.”
Aurora rolled her eyes, but some of the uncertainty clouding her expression had lifted.
“You look amazing, shortcake. I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true.”
She studied me. Two pools of green reeled me in, silently asking me things I couldn’t answer.
“I don’t know…”
“How about I make you a deal.”
