Every Time I Fall (Orchid Valley 3)

I bite my bottom lip, and the backs of my eyes burn. She’s right. I can’t even deny it. “I wish I could be more like you. I’d love to have that kind of confidence. You’re so beautiful and—”

“So are you, Abs. You’re gorgeous. Obviously, Dean thinks so too.”

“I want this to be good.”

Layla grins. “So show him every inch of you and don’t stop him when he falls to his knees in devotion.”

Chapter Seventeen

Abbi

As excited as I am to spend a night with all my friends on Sunday, I’m even more excited about going home with Dean after. Well, fifty percent excited, thirty-five percent nervous, and ten percent giddy. The other five percent is a colorful smorgasbord of feelings I try to avoid analyzing. Any time I do, I’m reminded of what I felt when Cody admitted he wasn’t attracted to me. When those feelings surface, I want to run far and fast.

I focused on giddy and excited as I dressed for tonight, but by the time I pull up to Brinley’s, I’m already questioning my wardrobe decisions. I feel awkward, and the last thing I want is for everyone to stare at me. The hair and makeup are okay, though I kept looking in the mirror and thinking I looked like a kid playing dress-up, but the dress is more revealing than anything I’ve worn in public since I quit dance class at twelve.

It falls just below my knees and shows off the best part of my legs—calves that are strong and sculpted from lots of walking and yoga—but even that is more than I normally show. The cut is a flattering A-line, and the soft lace sleeves cover my arms, which was probably why I let Layla talk me into buying it, but the neckline . . . the neckline shows enough cleavage that I’m practically bracing myself for Smithy to, at best, make a comment and tuck a single between my boobs.

I intentionally didn’t let myself bring a sweater. First, I’ll roast alive if I put a sweater on top of these sleeves, but mostly because I knew if I let myself even put one in the car, I’d end up with it buttoned up to my neck all night long.

Of all the places to test out my new look, this is my safest option. Brinley gave me the perfect excuse when she asked us to get “gussied up,” and these are my friends. If I make a total fool of myself, it’ll be okay.

That doesn’t make it any easier to climb out of the car.

Stella and Kace beat me here, and I watch from the safety of my car as they’re greeted by Brinley at the door and ushered into the house. I take a long, deep breath. It’s just a dress and a little makeup. These are my friends. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

Mustering more courage than this should require, I reach for the handle, but before I can, Dean’s opening my door from the outside. “Are you okay in there?” he asks, then his gaze sweeps over me and his jaw unhinges.

There it is. Evidence that I look like a fool and the first sign that people will be staring at me all night.

“Jesus,” he murmurs.

My cheeks heat. “Layla picked it out,” I blurt. Because I’m an adult who can’t take responsibility for her own stupid decisions, apparently.

“Remind me to thank her.” He takes my hand and leads me from the car before looking me over again. When he lifts his gaze back to mine, his eyes are dark, and I recognize the heat in them. “Are you trying to kill me?”

I bite my bottom lip. “You don’t think I look ridiculous?”

He coughs—half laugh, half horror. “I think you look delicious.” He glances toward the house and the empty front porch before stepping close and dropping his mouth to my ear. “You look so good that I’m not going to be able to focus on a damn thing. But did you forget the plans I had for you when I finally caught you in a skirt?”

My cheeks flame. I did not forget, but I thought he might. If my memories of those words sent little thrills through me as I got dressed tonight, I figured that was something I’d need to keep to myself, but the look in his eyes tells me he’d like to know. “I remember,” I say, lifting my chin.

He releases a low growl. “They’re watching, but I really want to kiss you right now.” Stepping closer, he draws in a long, deep breath. “Let’s get up there before I decide to do it anyway.”

I’m practically floating as we walk up the drive, side by side. Dean looks gorgeous as always dressed in dark jeans and a soft white button-up shirt he has rolled up to his elbows. It’ll take a feat of superhuman strength not to stare at those forearms all night.