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“Not legally,” I remind him, wrapping my arms around myself, because once again, another one of them has caught me sans bra.
“Technicalities.” He rises to his feet and lifts his arms up above his head to stretch. As his shirt rides up, revealing his lean and carved abs, I can’t help but stare.
Reece was known as the pretty boy in our school. All the girls wanted him. And he was such a flirt that he could—and probably did—have all the girls. I haven’t really been around him much since our friendship was broken three years ago. Back then, even with us just being friends, I knew he was hot. But nothing compared to how he looks now.
Time has been really good to him. And I hate it. I want him to be ugly.
“You done staring yet?” he asks with a drop of amusement. “Or do you want me to keep dragging out this stretch for you?”
My gaze snaps to his. “I wasn’t staring.” My flushed cheeks suggest otherwise, but I play it off as anger as I glower at him.
He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. “Liar. And I think it’s only fair that you stretch now so I can stare at you.”
I fold my arms tighter around myself. “I wasn’t staring,” I lamely repeat.
He steps toward me. “Liar. But that’s okay. I’ll give you a free pass since it’s our wedding day.” He gently brushes his fingers under my chin, and my stomach turns into spun cotton candy as shivers whisper across my flesh.
His baby blues sparkle, like he knows my body is reacting to his touch. “You might want to go put a bra on if you don’t want me to see anything, baby.”
I instinctively glance down and horrifyingly realize that I’m not covering myself up very well—my nipples are way too visible through my thin tank top.
I move my arms higher up on my chest then reel around and rush back into my room, slamming the door behind me. I slip a bra on before endeavoring out of my room again, only to find Reece leaning against the wall with his shoes now on.
“Why are you still lurking outside of my bedroom door?” I ask with my hand on my hip.
His gaze flicks to my chest then to my eyes. “I’m keeping an eye on you this morning.”
“Don’t you need to go get ready?”
“When either Ryder or Reece are ready, we’re going to switch places.”
The mention of Blaise fleetingly sends my mind back to that dressing room.
“What’s that look for?” Reece questions curiously.
“It’s a look of hatred,” I lie as I start down the hallway. “I thought you’d know it like the back of your hand by now.”
“Nah, it wasn’t hatred, because I do know that one.” He follows after me. “You could always just tell me. I kept your other secret, didn’t I?”
“You did, but it doesn’t matter, since I have no more secrets.”
“Everyone has secrets,” he mumbles as we arrive at the doorway to the kitchen where the staff is preparing breakfast.
I turn toward him. “Oh yeah, and what are some of yours?”
He grins, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “They wouldn’t be secrets if I told you, now would they?”
I didn’t expect him to tell me anything, and yet, even after all that’s occurred between us, I still feel wounded by his evasiveness. He used to tell me his secrets, and while I loathe admitting this to myself, I miss those days.
I twist back around, preparing to walk into the kitchen and grab something to eat.
“Allura.” My mother is striding down the hallway toward me, wearing a silk silver robe with her hair pinned up. “Good, I’m glad you’re awake.” She stops in front of me. “We need to start getting you ready.” She grabs my arm and tugs me away from the kitchen.
“I need to eat first,” I protest, wiggling my grip from hers.
“No eating on your wedding day.” She grabs my arm. “If you do, you’ll risk not fitting into your dress.”
“Such a bummer,” I fake-gripe, eliciting a nasty look from her.
