“Excuse me, it’s above my knees.”
“You’re wearing a top that has too busy to care written on it. And that jacket?” She points at it. “My great-aunt from two hundred years ago has that jacket.”
I groan, peel the jacket off, and toss it onto the bed with way more force than necessary. “I quit. Forget it. I’m not going to this thing.”
She glares at me. “The hell you’re not. Get up. I’ll grab something from my closet.”
“Nope.” I wave both hands. “There’s no way.”
And it’s not just because I’m a few pounds bigger than her, but it’s also because Allie owns exactly zero pieces of clothing that can be called decent. Sometimes I seriously wonder how we ended up best friends when we’re walking opposites.
She ignores me completely, grabs my arm, and yanks me up. “On your feet, young lady!”
“How did you even get invited?” I groan, struggling against her grip.
“I get invited to everything,” she says proudly, already dragging me toward her room. But just as she’s about to shove me inside, a knock rattles the front door.
“Peach.”
We both freeze. Our heads turn at the same time.
Braydon’s here? Already? He said he wasn’t coming for another hour.
Allie drops my arm, smooths her shirt like she hasn’t just been manhandling me, and then struts over to open the door.
“You’re early,” she says, tilting her head with mock annoyance as she lets him in.
“Yeah, I-” Braydon’s words cut short when his gaze finds me.
My blush rises instantly and I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to act unfazed. See? My outfit is clearly good. Allie was exaggerating.
Then his brows lift. “What in Columbus’ name are you wearing?”
Allie snorts, half choking as she tries to cover her laugh with her hand.
But me? My face is burning hotter than fire. I stare at him, then at her, then back at him again. The longer he looks, the smaller I feel.
“I…” My throat tightens. “I’m not going anymore!!”
Before anyone can answer, I storm into my room, slam the door, and press my back against it, wishing the earth would just swallow me whole.
I flop onto my bed, yanking my blanket over me until I’m nothing but a lump of embarrassment. Really, Katy? Push your hair back? What was that supposed to do…blind him with awkwardness?
Just then, a knock comes and I bury myself deeper. Maybe if I stay quiet, they’ll think I fell asleep or died of shame. Either option works.
But the door creaks open anyway. I don’t even need to peek…I know it’s him. The scent of his cologne, the heavier footsteps… it’s Braydon.
I feel the mattress dip and my blanket is tugged down just enough for air to hit my face. Before I can protest, I’m being lifted right off the bed.
“Hey!” I squeak, flailing, but his arms are locked around me. “Braydon, put me down!”
He doesn’t obey but carries me like I’m some stubborn kid refusing to go to school and stops right in front of my mirror. Only then does he let me slide to my feet, steadying me by the elbow.
I adjust my skirt quickly, avoiding his reflection and then his actual eyes. “I’m not changing my mind,” I mutter, folding my arms tight across my chest.
He looks me over once, then shrugs. “Good thing I didn’t ask. We’re just finding you something better.”
KATY’S POV
Right on cue, Allie barges in, her arms stacked with clothes. She dumps them dramatically on my bed, gives me a sly smirk, and disappears again before I can say a word.
My mouth falls open. “No. Nope. Absolutely not.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Braydon asks, already picking through the pile. He holds up a black top and raises an eyebrow. It’s open-back, and he smirks when he sees the look on my face. “You’ll look really sexy in this, Peach.”
My stomach flips and heat crawls up my neck. I snap myself out of it and shake my head. “I can’t wear that.”
He tilts his head, still holding the top between his fingers. “Why not?”
“It’s… it’s an open back.”
“And?” His tone makes it sound like that’s not even a reason.
I rub my forehead, trying to figure out how to say it without blushing. “Because I need a bra under that, and I’m not about to have half of Cadston seeing my underwear or nipples.”
His eyes flick down my cleavage, slow enough for me to feel it and my heart thuds so hard it’s almost audible. I fold my arms tighter across my chest.
“You don’t have to wear a bra,” he says finally, stepping a little closer.
I step back. “Yes, I do. I’m not sure you can-“
“I can see perfectly well,” he cuts in smoothly, his smirk deepening. “You’ve got great titties, Peach.
This time, I physically feel my intestines jump inside me.
“You’ll be with me the whole night anyway,” he adds.
“An..and how exactly does that-” I start, but he’s already in front of me.
His fingers graze my jaw and tilt my chin up until I’m staring right at him. “I’ll be this close to you the whole time,” he murmurs. “If anyone wants to see those titties, they’ll have to go through me first.”
Goosebumps race over my skin, and my cunt actually tingles. Seriously, what’s wrong with me? Just a few days ago I told him straight up he doesn’t make my stomach flutter. Now he’s got other parts of me trembling.
I snatch the top from his hand and step aside, needing space. “Fine. I’ll go with it. Turn around so I can change.”
He smirks but obeys, spinning around with his hands raised like he’s under arrest. “Not looking. Totally being a gentleman.”
“Yeah, right,” I mutter, glaring at his broad back. He’s definitely smirking.
I peel my shirt off fast, then freeze halfway. What if he’s listening for the rustle? My eyes narrow.
“Are you… smiling?” I ask suspiciously.
“I can’t smile now?” His voice is muffled, but I can hear the laugh hiding in it. “Kinda hard not to when I know you’re freaking out back there.”
“I’m not freaking out,” I hiss, yanking the top over my head. My hair gets caught in the fabric, and I let out a muffled groan. “Ugh, why is this so hard?”
“Need help?” he offers instantly, and I swear I can hear the smirk.
“Don’t you dare turn around,” I warn.
He chuckles under his breath. “Relax, Peach. I’m just saying, I could make it easier.”
I finally wrestle the top down, my bra straps awkwardly poking through. With a sigh, I reach behind me, unclip it, and tug it out one sleeve. My cheeks flame hotter.
When I’m finally done, I clear my throat. “Okay. You can turn around now.”
“Sure?”
“Yes.” I answer.
“Turning around now.” He says.
“How does it look?” I ask, stretching my arms out.
When he turns back, his gaze drags slowly over my breasts before meeting my eyes. “Hot.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.