I stand in front of the mirror for a moment longer, forcing myself to smile and adjusting the expression on my face to make it look more natural. It takes a bit of work, but after a few tries, I think the only person who would notice I still look exhausted and sad underneath it all is Scarlett or someone I’m really close to. Hopefully, the guys don’t know me quite that well yet.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I go to my dresser and rummage around inside, looking for something to change into. I went to meet Scarlett in jeans and a t-shirt, but that isn’t going to work for what I have planned now.
I don’t want to be too overtly sexy, nothing obvious that screams “seduction” or whatever. Just something a little provocative, something to draw their eyes and keep their attention.
In the end, I settle on going for comfort and appeal all in one. I take off my bra and put on a tank top, one that’s just old enough that it’s a little worn and gives a good view of the fullness of my tits and the outlines of my nipples. For my bottom half, I pull on the shorts I usually sleep in. They’re soft, cotton, and black, but most importantly, they’re tiny.
It looks like I’m just dressed down for bed, which is appropriate for the time of day, but when I look in the mirror again, I know the outfit is a winner. I look sexy, but I also don’t look like I’m trying to look that way.
With one last glance at myself, I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and head back downstairs.
Of course, Sloan is the first one I run into. He’s sitting on the couch again, this time without his laptop, and he glances up at me and then away, but double-takes to look back when he notices what I’m wearing.
I pretend not to be aware of it, but I can see out of the corner of my eye the way he notices me. His gaze rakes over my entire frame from head to toe in a slow wave, and I can feel my body reacting to the heat in his eyes. My nipples peak, going hard and tight, and I know that it must be at least a little noticeable through the thin material of my top.
“What are you doing this weekend?” I ask, settling onto a large easy chair and tucking my legs beneath me.
Sloan’s eyes narrow. “Why?”
I purse my lips, digging deep to come up with the easy sass I usually address him with. It feels false as hell, but it actually sounds pretty good when I speak. “Jesus. Can’t I ask you a simple fucking question without you turning into a grumpy asshole? I was just wondering.”
“I’m not sure,” he says shortly.
I scoff. “Very helpful. Thanks.”
His jaw clenches, and although I can tell he’s studiously trying to ignore me, his gaze flicks in my direction again, landing on my cleavage before shifting away. “If I knew why you were asking, maybe I could be a bit more helpful.”
Leaning my elbows on the arm rest, I cock my head at him. “Do you like street racing?”
“What is this, twenty fucking questions?”
I smile sweetly at him, crossing my arms in a way that I know pushes my cleavage up a little bit, making it even more noticeable. “No. I’m just asking because there’s a race going on this weekend.” I shrug. “I was thinking about going.”
Levi and Rory come walking in from the kitchen as I’m talking, and I glance their way, inviting them into this conversation too. I’m glad they’re here, actually. It’s a hell of a lot easier to talk to them than it is to talk to Sloan, and it’ll probably be easier to convince them, too.
“You were, were you?” Sloan asks, snorting a little under his breath. He sounds put out that I’m not asking permission or whatever, but I ignore that.
“Yeah. I mean, you guys can come too, I guess.” I roll my eyes the way I would have before, back when I was always pissed off about them following me around everywhere. “If that will make you ease off so I can actually fucking go.”
It’s like when I wanted to go to that club with Scarlett, and I had to invite them to come along just so they’d let me out of the damned house. I make the almost-pout convincing, laying it on thick to sell it.
“Sounds like a good time,” Rory says, leaning on the back of the couch, right in Sloan’s personal space.
Sloan turns his head to glare at his friend, either for his words or the invasion of his personal space or both. It’s always hard to tell with this asshole what exactly is pissing him off. The list seems endless.
“Oh, yeah? Does it?” Sloan mutters.
Rory, in true Rory fashion, just grins. “Yeah. It’d be nice to get out of the house and do something fun, don’t you think?”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” Levi glances from me to Sloan. “It’s just a race. It’ll be a good time. Shit’s been intense lately, so a night of blowing off steam couldn’t hurt.”
I can tell their enthusiasm isn’t what Sloan was hoping for. I’m sure he wanted them to back him up and be as big of a fucking downer as he is. He glances at me again, narrowing his eyes a little. He’s wavering, trying to decide if it’s a good idea or not, but he seems on the fence about it.
I keep my cool, looking neutral.
“You know,” Rory says, sliding a glance my way with a slow grin. “I was going to say I didn’t take you for a racing kind of girl, but now that I think about it, I’m not even a little bit surprised that you like things fast and dangerous. That has you written all over it.”