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Gather and present yourself.
This is the offering …
Grace
I can’t stop staring at Lizzie. She’s killing it with the look she’s going for but the hot pink dress she’s wearing is so tight her boobs are nearly popping out. I can’t be too mad at her for that—if mine looked that good, I’d put them on display every chance I got. But the hem of her dress ends about an inch below her ass, and that’s being generous. It doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Not that I’m judging. I’m just worried other people will. If she bends over even the slightest, everyone’s going to see all her goods. At that image, I scrunch my nose and a thought hits me.
“Are you even wearing underwear?” I try to keep my tone neutral so I don’t sound like I’m being a prude, but I can’t help asking since she goes commando all the time. Although I can’t imagine her risking a wardrobe malfunction considering where we’re headed.
She pauses her contouring and shoots me a naughty grin, then rolls her eyes. “Yes.” The self-assurance falters in her expression but only for a moment, and I think I may have imagined it. Confidence is practically her middle name.
“Thank God.” I breathe out a sigh of relief and watch as she sprays something in her hair and smooths out the ends. Her hands tremble just slightly and this time I know I didn’t invent what I saw. “You look hot,” I say in an attempt to calm her nerves. It’s not the dress that’s gotten to her. It’s what we have to do the moment we leave that’s got her on edge. I know this is true, because it has me shaken too.
“You’re just saying that,” she says sweetly with a simper that doesn’t look at all innocent on her. “It’s the blond hair,” she adds as she twirls a lock around her finger. “They have more fun.”
With only a huff of a laugh in response, I shake my head and ignore the churning in my gut that’s been bothering me all day.
She’s really nailing the blond bombshell look. Honestly, she pulls off every color she’s ever dyed it. Even last summer when she went purple. It looked fantastic on her, like she was made to have violet hair; I would’ve looked like a complete dumbass.
Touching up my makeup one last time, I stare back at the mirror before smiling and spearing my fingers through my natural brunette hair, giving it more of a relaxed appearance. Lizzie may have the sexy and seductive look down pat, but I’ve got more of a traditional beauty thing going on. I like my subdued look. It keeps assholes away. Lizzie can handle them, comically so … I cannot. Smacking my lips, all done with my lip gloss, it’s time to decide on shoes.
I’m definitely wearing heels. It’s a must when I go out with Lizzie. She practically lives in them since she’s short, but so am I. It took me a little while to get used to wearing heels all the time, but now they’re like slippers. For tonight, though … getting all dressed up makes the nerves at the back of my neck prick.
“New jeans?” she asks as she eyes the designer pair I bought the other day. I’m grateful for the distraction. No more thinking about that. The idea of being taken by anyone at all—much less the men who will stand on that stage today—is only a nightmare. It’s not going to happen. Not a damn thing is going to happen this afternoon, and then we’re really going out. That’s the plan, and we’re sticking to it. I need to stop thinking about the worst things imaginable. Sometimes my mind goes to the darkest places, but not today. Not now. Sure as hell not when Lizzie needs me to be levelheaded.
“Yeah, they’re like the best pair I’ve ever owned.” They fit my petite curves better than the rest of the jeans in my closet. I’m rubbing it in a little, but Lizzie knows I’m only teasing. Stretching a little in them, I turn to check out my backside. My curves are on the larger side, but I love it. I’ve got wide hips and small breasts, whereas Lizzie’s got a full-on hourglass figure.
“When’d you get them?”
“Got ‘em on sale last week. Should’ve stayed with me at the mall rather than taking off.” I click my tongue at her and smile. She left me hanging when she went to go run an errand for our boss. His lazy ass does that kind of thing constantly. We basically run the bookstore ourselves.
She pouts and asks, “Did they have any more?”
I purse my lips and shake my head. These were the only pair on the clearance rack. If Lizzie and I wore the same size in jeans, I’d share them. But we don’t. So she’s shit out of luck. “Sorry, babe.”
“Damn.”
“We’ll have to keep a lookout for more.” I nod my head.
“We should look online too.”
Her eyes shine brightly at the suggestion. “Hell yeah, payday is Friday,” she replies in a singsong voice, swaying her head as she does. It makes the dangling earrings she’s wearing chime softly. They’re rose gold with moonstones. I gave them to her on her eighteenth birthday. Lizzie’s allergic to silver, so I made sure to get pure rose gold. They cost a little more, but it was worth every penny to see the look on her face when she opened the gift box. She owns a lot of earrings, but she always seems to wear that specific pair.
The smile grows on my face until I realize I need to ask her the inevitable and it vanishes completely at the thought. “Are you almost ready?” She looks like she is but knowing her, she could spend another hour doing her makeup. I bet she could spend all day in here if I didn’t remind her of the time. Her makeup looks perfect already to me, though, with her flawless cat-eye look and pink lipstick to match her dress. “And do you have a jacket?” I add comically, as if I’m her mother.
“Yeah and yeah,” she says, rolling her eyes with the smile staying in place, “but we still have time to kill, right?”
I check my phone, which is sitting on the bathroom counter. Our small-town college, Shadow Falls, is only ten minutes away and we have forty minutes before we absolutely need to take off.
Nerves tingle down my arm and my throat tightens. There’s not a trace of either when I answer her. “A little bit, yeah.” I can guess exactly what it is that she wants. “Coffee run?”
“Yes!” she exclaims to the ceiling with dramatic flair. She’s got a serious caffeine addiction. Shaking my head, I smile back at her and grab my phone. I could go for a chocolate chip cookie while we’re there anyway. Something to calm my stomach.
“Let’s go … like now … so we’re not late then.” I browse through our joint closet, which is crammed full of clothing, for only a split second before picking out my favorite clutch. Taking a moment to admire the pastel plaid print and soft tan leather, I drop in my phone, wallet, and cherry red lip gloss.
“You wearing the pink stilettos?” she asks as if she doesn’t already know the answer.
With another smack of my lips, I tell her, “Duh.” I wear them almost every day. They’re neutral enough that they complement most of my wardrobe but they have a little more pep than nude heels. The dark red soles give them an extra bit of sex appeal, which I love. The additional two inches they grant me doesn’t hurt either. It makes me feel like today isn’t anything but ordinary and I’m going to kick ass … just like every other day.
