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God, he’s so hard to say no to. I almost forgot about that. It’s his eyes, and the sadness that constantly shadows his pupils.
“Maybe one day, but right now, I just want to focus on getting out of this dress and getting something to eat, if that’s okay?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.” I attempt to relax as I say, “That’s actually why I knocked on your bedroom door. I need your help with that.”
“With getting something to eat? Of course, I can make you whatever you want.”
“No, not that. Ryder’s already doing that, and then we’re all supposed to go downstairs so the four of us can talk about stuff.”
“You mean, about what’s going on?” he states while assessing me intently. “Are you sure you want to do that right now? It’s late, and you’ve been upset. I worry you might become overstimulated if more emotional stuff is thrown at you.”
“I’m fine now.” I smooth invisible wrinkles out of my dress. “I just … I need to know.” I lift my gaze to his. “And I also need to get out of this dress, which is what I need your help with.”
His frown fades as his brows elevate. “You want me to help you get out of your dress?”
“Yeah, the zipper and clasps are all on the back, so I can’t reach them. And I figured, since you already saw what’s underneath the dress, it won’t be a big deal if you see me in it again.” I shrug like it’s no big deal.
Sure, we messed around in the dressing room, but deep down, I think I was aware my mother would knock on the door and interrupt us. That barrier isn’t present here.
“Yeah, I can do that.” He drags his fingers roughly through his hair as he steps back and motions for me to enter his room.
Collecting the front of my dress, I shuffle in, and he shuts the door behind us. Then he turns around and leans against it, his dark, stormy gaze traveling all over me. Anxiety is radiating from his tense demeanor, and he’s breathing so loudly I can hear it.
“You don’t have to help me if you don’t want to,” I tell him. “I can ask Reece for help.” Or maybe I’ll just cut the dress off.
He swiftly shakes his head as he pushes away from the door and steps toward me. “I can help you.”
“You’re nervous, and I don’t want to make you feel that way.”
“I’m not nervous,” he assures, his gaze roaming all over me again. “It’s just … when we were in the dressing room, there were people outside, so there was this barrier, I guess, that made things feel a bit … safer.” When he notes my lips pressed together, he asks, “What’s that look for?”
“It’s nothing.” I offer him a shrug and a small smile. “I just had the same thought.”
He stares at me, unmoving. He’s nervous, even if he says he isn’t.
“You know what? I’ll just go ask Reece.” I move to step around him with the plan of cutting the dress off because fuck if I’m going to ask Reece to undress me.
He snags me by the arm, stopping me. “No, don’t. I can help you. I want to help you.” He removes his hand from my arm and swings around behind me. “I know I’m acting a little weird,” he confesses as he touches the back of my neck. “It’s just that I’ve been dreaming about this since I was fourteen years old.”
A wonderful shiver kisses my flesh as he traces his fingers across my neck.
“About taking my fate ceremony dress off of me?” I joke, my tone shaky as he touches my neck again.
“About undressing you.” His fingers sketch down my spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps.
“What? No way.”
“Yes way.”
I peer over my shoulder at him. “You thought about undressing me when you were fourteen years old?”
“Why do you seem so surprised? You hung around us all the time, so you heard all the dirty shit Ryder and Reece talked about all the time.”
“They never said anything about me, though. And you hardly ever talked about that stuff. And I know why and everything, but I never thought you were secretly thinking about taking my clothes off.”
“I wasn’t just thinking about taking your clothes off.” His cheeks tint pink. “Again, I was a fourteen-year-old guy, and my best friend was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.”
