Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
He’d gotten his ‘out.’ He could have left, but he made the choice to come back and kiss me. It hadn’t been a quick, perfunctory one, either. He’d told me so without using words, showing me how badly he’d wished he didn’t have to go.
He’d all but said, “Until next time, Charlotte.”
Eggplant colored tulle cascaded over the top of the dressing room door, and I stared at the poof of fabric in disbelief. Brianna was on the other side, and her hand holding the hanger jutted up, waiting for me to take it from her.
“Really?” I muttered under my breath.
“Just try it on,” she ordered.
I grabbed the hanger and pulled the rest of the dress over the door, doing my best to sound chill. “You got it, boss.”
Below the door, her feet disappeared from view as she headed off to find more options, although there couldn’t be that many left. Sasha, Cait, and I had tried on nearly every bridesmaid dress in the bridal store.
I slipped the purple fabric over my head and shimmied my way inside the shockingly heavy dress. I glanced in the mirror as I struggled to pull up the back zipper, and choked back a snort.
There was no way I was going to wear this abomination.
It looked like the designer had wanted it to be strapless, but decided it was too simple and had to make a last-minute addition. The single shoulder was full of chiffon flowers, beads, and sequins. On its own, it was a lot. But when it was paired with the skirt and its never-ending layers, the dress was comical.
This wasn’t a bridesmaid’s dress. It was fucking ballgown straight out of nineties.
Brianna was waiting by the mirrors, and when I came out, I discovered I was the last one to finish dressing. Cait and Sasha looked at me, wearing the same purple monster, and judging by their expressions, they felt the same as I did.
I gripped the layers of tulle, sashayed over to the group with a giant grin, and channeled the little girl from Despicable Me as I shook my skirt. “It’s so fluffy!”
The girls thought it was funny, but the saleswoman nearby was not amused. She lifted an eyebrow and turned to the bride. “We can get this one in navy. What do you think?
Brianna was exceptionally polite. “Wow. It’s, uh, something. Might be a bit much.”
All of us bridesmaids were feeling a little punchy from trying on so many options, and Sasha flicked at the floral strap of my dress. “It looks like you have a third boob.”
I flicked hers. “You do too.”
Cait climbed up on the pedestal in front of the mirrors and twirled in the dress, making the layers fly around. Her tone was joking and sugary-sweet. “I feel like a princess.”
The tag caught Sasha’s eye, so she put a hand on Cait’s back to stop her and did a double-take at the figure scribbled there.
“Jesus Christ, it’s twelve hundred dollars.”
Cait’s fake smile froze. “Well, now I just feel sad.”
“Me too.” Brianna turned her attention back to the saleswoman. “Any other ideas?”
“I have few more pieces we can pull.”
Brianna put on a fake scowl and pretended to be a strict drill sergeant. “You heard the woman.” She flung a finger at the dressing rooms. “Get your asses back in there.”
I’d left my phone face-up on the chair in the dressing room, and as soon as I’d closed myself in the room, its screen lit up with a notification. Someone had texted me while I’d been out by the mirrors, and I swiped to unlock the screen.
Noah: Hey. What are you up to right now?
It’d been four days since we’d gone to Club Eros, and although we’d texted every day since then, I always got a thrill when his name flashed on my phone. Most of our conversations were about business. I’d had a video go mega viral on Sunday, which was super exciting, but now my DMs were full of people wanting something.
Two of them, at least, seemed like legit requests, and Noah had offered to negotiate on my behalf. The best part of it wasn’t that he was handling all the stuff I didn’t like doing—although that was nice.
No, it was that after we were done talking about business, we’d turned to talking about other things.
Personal things.
Music, and TV shows, and yesterday he’d talked a bit more about his family. I knew his dad was doing better after spending the weekend in the hospital with an infection, and everyone was relieved he was on the mend.
But his dad was sick, and in complete denial about it, and that was really hard on Noah’s entire family.
I was glad he’d opened up to me. I wanted him to feel like he could talk to me about anything, the way I felt about him.