When I Fall

“We should all hang out sometime. Tessa and I could use another girl in our group. We’re quickly getting outnumbered.” She places a hand on the back of the baby’s head and lifts her eyebrows, waiting for my agreement. I say agreement because I doubt anyone has ever said no to Mia. She seems too sweet to let down.

“I’d love to hang out with you guys.”

“We have game nights and stuff at my house. It’s really a lot of fun. And you need to meet the guys.” She begins twisting back and forth, bouncing a little when the baby begins fussing. “Ben, my husband, is Tessa’s brother. She’s dating Luke who works with Ben. And you already know Reed.”

She bites her bottom lip to keep her smile under control. That only fuels mine. Ear to ear, I grin like he’s standing directly in front of me. She drops her mouth to the top of the baby’s head and lowers her voice.

“CJ comes sometimes. He’s really nice too.”

I do a quick count of the men, including the two in the room. “You’re definitely getting outnumbered,” I tell her as Tessa walks back into the dressing area.

“Here we go,” she says, marching directly at me.

“Oh, uh, is . . .” I stammer as several garments are shoved against my chest. All black dresses, but different styles.

Tessa guides me into the dressing room I emerged from minutes ago with a hand to my shoulder.

“Any of these dresses will do for Saturday. I guessed a size five-six, was I right?”

Wow. Who can guess someone’s size just by looking at them?

“Yeah, that’s . . .” I look down at the dresses in my hand, then back up at her. “How did you . . .”

“It’s a gift.”

She takes one of the dresses and hangs it up on the rod along the wall, repeating this until I’m left holding one. Her red hair is slightly disheveled, falling out of the loose pony at the base of her neck. We’re similar in size, but I have a couple inches on Tessa. Mia towers over us both. The two of them couldn’t be more opposite, not in appearance or demeanor.

Turning to face me, Tessa brings her hands to rest on her hips, looking satisfied with herself.

“You need to look slammin’ at this thing. You have great tits, so use them. All of these dresses can be worn without a bra, and that’s exactly how they should be worn. Don’t cage those babies up. You want to leave some things to the imagination, but a bangin’ cleavage isn’t one of them.” She moves past me and closes the door behind her, leaving me alone in the small room.

I hold the dress up in my hands to get a good look at it. It’s short, the material form-fitting, and the part that would cover my chest is sheer.

“This would show nipple,” I mumble, sticking my hand down the neck of the dress.

“Nothing wrong with that!”

I laugh at Tessa’s remark, then turn my head so I’m staring at the door. My arms drop. “Are you two waiting for me to try these on?”

“Yup,” both women answer, their voices light with excitement.

“Even if you don’t like it, step out and let us see it,” Tessa says. “I might be able to tweak it so it’ll work.”

“Some of these are really short.” I pass a hand over the dresses hanging in front of me. I’m not used to wearing anything like this. “And this one . . . who wears a dress that has a slit up this high?”

Forget about the possibility of everyone at this thing seeing my chest. This one would show vagina.

“I own that one in white.”

I pull my hand back into a fist, wincing. My eyes fixate on the door as uncomfortable silence fills the longest seconds of my life.

Shit. Recover, Beth! Say something!

“It’s . . . I love it. It’s so pretty.” My words stick to my tongue, struggling to escape my mouth. I’m insulting my new friends. Awesome. I’m sure they’ll be dying to hang out with me now.

As my head drops against the wall, laughter erupts from behind the door.

“Tessa, tell her you’re kidding!”

“I am. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. That was too easy.” Tessa’s voice breaks with a cackle. “Whew. I crack myself up sometimes.”

“You’re a brat,” Mia teases, her voice getting louder as she moves closer to the door. “Beth, we’re ready when you are. Take your time.”

I like these girls. They make even this torture enjoyable.

Lifting my head, I pull my shoulders back and switch the dress in my hand for another that’s hanging up. “Okay, but I’m not doing nipple. I’d like to leave whether or not I have any piercings to the imagination.”

I KNOW I SHOULDN’T FEEL this way.

I know this entire night will all be for show. One giant lie.

I know this isn’t going to mean anything, and whatever happens at this party will be done based on the need to make our roles believable.

But I can’t help my excitement. Reed has made me feel more comfortable in the short time we’ve spent together than any other person I’ve ever been around. It’s easy with him, and not in a chummy friend sort of way. My heartbeat rivals a hummingbird on crack in his presence. I’ve never had many friends, but the ones I did have never elicited that type of reaction.

And now I can’t even hide it.

Now, when it all becomes too much, when the warmth in my blood reaches the surface of my skin, when an unforgiving pressure forms between my hips, and my lungs struggle to keep up with the pace my heart is setting, I can’t look away to catch my breath. He forces me to keep my eyes on his. He overloads me with stimuli, and then pins me down, stealing my reaction as if he’s earned it, or as if it was his all along and he’s taking it back. I’m sure it’ll be like this tonight. I’m sure he’ll do something, or say something that will provoke my body. Even if it is a night where every touch will be an act, I get to be around someone who makes me smile more than I’ve ever smiled in my entire life. So, no, I can’t help my excitement. I want to be around Reed, and I’m not ashamed to admit that. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">