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Britt snorted. “You don’t?”
“No.”
“You’re serious? He kissed you on the floor. That should tell you everything.”
“And yet, it doesn’t.” Before Britt could continue down a road where Teagan didn’t want to go, down a road filled with false hope, she stood up and started poking through the dresses. “What color do you think?”
“Are you like this with him? Because if you are, I can tell you right now that boy is suffering from whiplash.”
“I’m told green looks good on me… with my hair.” She deftly ignored Britt’s questions until she stepped forward with an impatient sigh.
“Here, let’s see, shall we?”
They looked through all of Britt’s dresses until they’d chosen four of them for Teagan to try on and model.
The first one she tried on was burgundy, which looked lovely against her skin, but the dip in the front came down very far. Too far, leaving her feeling very exposed and also worried about wardrobe malfunctions.
She was plucking at it, so Britt vetoed it too. “You need to be comfortable. Comfort is sexy.”
The next one was black and strapless and wouldn’t stay up over her chest. Apparently, Britt had more in the bosom department. No surprise to Teagan.
The last two appeared more promising. Both were dark blue. The first of the two fit very nicely. It had one sleeve and an opening that curved around the left side of her rib cage. It was kind of conservatively cut. As conservative as Britt went, anyway. It was very stretchy and hugged her hips, leaving little to the imagination.
“That goes in the maybe pile,” Britt replied. “Now check the other one.”
As Teagan pulled it down over her head, the heavy, beaded material hung just perfectly against her body. It hit around mid-thigh, so it was on the short side, but not scandalously so. The front dipped down, the point of the ‘v’ hitting just at the bottom of her sternum. It fit her like a glove, accentuating what little cleavage she had and the narrowness of her waist.
Britt’s eyes bugged out when she saw her. “Fuck, Teagan… that looks better on you than it does on me!”
When Teagan looked in the mirror, she was amazed at what she saw. Not that she had any hangups with her body, but she tended not to show this much skin at once.
“I shouldn’t… I should wear the other one, shouldn’t I?”
“Why?” Britt asked. “You look a vision in that.”
“I mean, it’s a bit much, isn’t it?” Teagan asked.
“It’s up to you,” Brittany said. “Wear whichever one makes you happy.”
Teagan turned around in the dress, admiring the way it stretched over her bum and hips. She’d have to wear nylons with it, but she wasn’t about to complain about that. “This one,” she said, grinning widely. “I look fucking amazing.”
“Yeah, you do!” Brittany beamed like it was an utter triumph. “I’ve got just the shoes you can wear, too.” She went into the closet and rummaged around, returning with a pair of navy blue pumps that made Teagan’s legs look a million miles long. Rounded her ass out, too.
“Fuck me…” Teagan gaped at her reflection.
“Not now. I think it’d be weird since I’m currently fucking your brother.”
She shot Britt a look and turned around once more. “I need nylons.”
“I’ve got a ton of never-been-worns in the basket behind the door.” Brittany gestured to the door, and Teagan walked around behind it to look through them. It didn’t take long to find a sheer pair.
She emerged from the closet only to have Brittany reach in around her and grab a dress at random. Teagan shot her a look of alarm, and her friend grinned easily. “They’re my clothes, love. IknowI look amazing in them.”
The dress she chose was gold and pink, short enough to have Teagan staring, but somehow it worked for Britt. After that, she set Teagan’s hair in large, hot rollers before sliding to the floor so Teagan could weave some intricate braids into Brittany’s long wavy tresses.
It was almost like a sleepover, except they were grown women and not getting ready for bed or a night of prank-calling their crushes.
Britt swore like a sailor when Teagan pulled, so that was on-brand for her past sleepovers. Shea had cut her hair short just so Teagan wouldn’t ever touch it again. That and it had angered their mother. But mostly because she yanked it like she was trying to drive a team of horses with it. “I’ll go wherever you want,” Shea would screech. “Just don’t pull my hair anymore!”
