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Rocking her leg side to side, she drops her eyes to her hands. “Well, we need to head out in about an hour. I'll let you get ready.”
Her eyes land on mine, and she stands silently. Licking her lips, I half expect her to dash into the room and kiss me. I can see it in her eyes. Soft, sultry, glossing over as if she's picturing it in her head.
“Siobhan!” her mother calls out.
The look disappears instantly, replaced with a heavy exhale. “I'll come get you when it's time to go. What is it?” she asks as she turns and closes the door behind her.
I lay in bed for a few extra minutes before forcing myself to get up. The floor warms my cold feet as I walk to the bathroom and take a quick shower. Looking in the mirror, I debate if I should shave or not.
Nah. Screw it.
I'll put on the suit, and play pretend, mingling with people that would never even look at me twice if we met out in the real world or I showed up on a stretcher. But that's it. I'm not going to change who I am for them. I just can't. It's not right.
Splashing some cologne against my neck, I put on the suit. Wrapping the tie around my neck, I fumble with the knot, then give up altogether.
Fuck the tie, I think to myself, folding the collar down.
Running flat hands down the front of the suit, I pop the top button free on the button-up underneath. Combing my beard down, I run a hand through my hair, and the dirt in the thick cracks of my working hands, catches my eyes.
Holding them out in front of my face, it's easy for me to see I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing. These hands are a mirror into the reality of who I am. A man in a suit like this doesn't have hands like these.
Thick callouses, deep crevices, stained to the point I can't even wash it away anymore. These hands don't match the finesse of this suit.
Straightening my shoulders, my jaw hardens as I stare at my reflection. I don't care what these people think. I don't care what any of these people think. This suit doesn't wear me, and these people aren't going to dictate who I need to be.
I am this fucking suit.
Confidence surges through me. Siobhan isn't like these people either, and she shouldn't have to mimic them just to fit in. I'm going to be me, and maybe I'll be able to help her find the strength to be herself too.
“Mark, you ready?” Sia asks me from behind the door.
Yanking the door open, I arch a brow and tip my chin high. “Hell yeah, I'm ready.”
Her parents already left. Her mother wanted to get there while they were still setting up to make sure everything is done exactly how she wants.
“Did you tell your parents I'm coming yet?”
“I told them this morning.”
“How did they take it?”
She rolls her head on her shoulder, peering up at me with eyes that say I already know the answer.
“Well, they're going to feel really stupid when I walk in.”
“Why's that?” she asks.
“Because I look so damn good in this suit. I'm like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Only I'm not a prostitute, and you're not Richard Gere.”
Sia laughs, slapping me against my chest. “I just hope this goes smoothly. I hate these things. They're always so uncomfortable.”
Slipping a hand over her thigh as we sit in the back of the town car her mother had sent for us, I dig my fingertips in her soft flesh. I'm going to take full advantage of any time we get alone.
“This one will be better because now you have me. I can make anything fun. You had fun at Jenna and Ryder's wedding, right?” She purses her lips into a tight smirk and nods. “See, consider me party luck. It'll be a good time no matter what.”
She reaches over and grabs my bicep, giving me a small smile. We stay like that the rest of the car ride, with my hand on her leg and her hand on my arm.
Pulling up to a fancy hotel, the driver gets out and opens the door for us. I get out first, then hold my hand out for her. Sia places her hand in mine, sending electric snaps up my shoulder and through my chest.
