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Rolling her eyes, she forces me to take it. “Oh, don’t be so modest, Allura. You’re about to marry three men. I think that ship has long sailed.”
“Um, Mrs. Everlyson”—the store owner pops her head out from a curtained area—“can you come approve the added detail before I get the dressing room set up?”
My mother doesn’t respond as she strides over to the store owner.
Again, I feel bad for her, but for myself, too.
I glare at the piece of lingerie she forced me to take. “This is the dumbest thing she’s ever made me do.”
“She’s still the same as I remember her,” Blaise remarks quietly.
“I don’t think she’ll ever change.” I lift my gaze to his and find him staring at the piece of lingerie that I’m holding. Like me, his cheeks are flushed. It makes me grateful he’s the one here. If it’d been Reece, he would’ve teased the hell out of me about this. And Ryder … well, after last night when he touched my leg …
I clear my throat as my entire body grows warm. “I hate that she’s making me do this,” I admit. “I need a distraction.” I peer up at him. “Can you tell me now?”
He blinks his gaze off the lingerie and looks dazed as our gazes collide. “Huh?”
“What you were going to tell me in my room,” I remind him. “Can you tell me now, so I can have a distraction?”
His lips part, but I never get to hear his answer because my mom returns and ruins the moment. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear it was on purpose.
TWELVE
ALLURA
I detest that I like my wedding dress. My mother didn’t let me pick it out, and yet it’s pretty—strapless with lace that has hints of black. It’s not traditional by any means, but nothing about this “wedding” is traditional.
Once my mother is convinced the dress is perfect, I return to the dressing room to take it off. I’m about to slip my clothes back on when she moves up beside the door and reaches over to hand me the lingerie I purposefully put back on the rack.
“Try these on and make sure they fit,” she tells me. “The top is strapless so you can wear it under your dress.”
I glower at the door as I snatch it from her. Part of me doesn’t want to try it on, but if it doesn’t fit, then she’ll have a fit. So, I slip out of my bra and underwear and, with some effort, manage to get the top on. However, I can’t get the back to lace up all the way. I put the bottoms on next. Then I examine my reflection in the mirror.
The two pieces aren't that awful. If this were my chosen wedding day, I’d have been fine with it. But it’s not. None of this is my choice.
My thoughts drift back to last night and how close I came to messing around with Trystan. I wanted so badly to have that memory, to own it, to keep it as mine. Now I’ll never get that chance again. Party time is over. My freedom is over.
“Does it fit?” my mother asks from the other side of the door, interrupting my thoughts.
“Yeah,” I reply curtly as I move to unlace it.
“Here, let Blaise in so he can approve,” she tells me while tapping on the door. “Allura, unlock the door.”
My eyes widen. “I’m not a prostitute, Mother.”
“No one’s prostituting you out,” she tells me with annoyance. “This is your destiny, and the sooner you accept that, the easier your life will be.”
I hate her so much in that moment as I slide the lock and crack open the door.
Blaise slips inside, and I instinctively cross my arms over my chest.
He doesn’t look at me right away as he locks the door for an unnecessary amount of time. Even when he gets it locked, he keeps his back to me and takes a few breaths.
Again, I find a bit of comfort that Blaise is the one with me. I shouldn’t, but it could be worse.
“I don’t have to look,” he whispers with his gaze locked on the door.
I slant against the wall. “Does it even matter? In two days, you’re all going to gang bang me, anyway, so why not just get this awkward part over with now?”
