The jeans and tight white blouse might continue to give the impression that I’m that kind of girl Chase rescued last night at the fight. You know, the type I was totally pretending to be. A girl who’s not afraid of showing off her body and is so comfortable with her sexuality she flaunts it. More power to her, but I’m not that type at all. I’m actually quite a prude.
I’m reserved. I like to be covered up. I feel more comfortable, more secure with most of my body under wraps.
To me, my purple dress is the most comfortable and revealing thing I can bring myself to wear. It’s my favorite and I feel like it truly represents who I am. The hem of the skirt is a little long, just ending at my knees, but the skirt flares and the top has straps instead of sleeves, leaving my arms completely bare. Just the tiniest bit of cleavage is revealed by the sweetheart cut of the top and the dress is covered in the prettiest flowers that look as if they were painted on. I’ve been told the green of the leaves and stems really brings out my eyes.
Do I want to continue to pretend to be the girl I never wanted to be or do I want Chase to know the real me? Even if it might turn him off and send him away? Decisions, decisions.
“You okay in there?” I hear Chase ask on the other side of the door.
His voice is so deep, it sounds like it’s booming. I swear my door just rattled.
“Yeah! Sorry! I’ll be out soon,” I call out.
Ugh, he probably thinks I’m a total freak. I better decide before he gets bored and leaves.
The purple dress. I’ll do the purple dress. If he doesn’t like me as I truly am, well, it will just save us both a whole lot of trouble later. If there even is a later. Okay, let’s just end that whole line of thought right there. I want to have fun. I want to get to know Chase. I want him to get to know me and hopefully like me. I pick up the dress and slip it over my head.
I’ll be me. I can’t change myself for a man.
I struggle, twisting and turning, looking at my back in the full-length mirror on my door as my fingers yank on the zipper. Once the zipper is fully up, I do a little spin, then smooth my hands down my skirt.
Not bad.
My hair is down so I decide to pull it up. I twist my dark locks into a loose bun on my head, then pin it until it’s mostly secure. I slip my feet into my sandals, take a deep breath then pull open the door.
“Hi,” I smile.
Chase is standing in the area between my front door and kitchen with his hands shoved into his pockets.
His head pops up, and he doesn’t say anything. I just watch the Adam’s apple in his throat bob as he swallows.
“I’m sorry about keeping you waiting,” I say suddenly feeling nervous.
I take a step forward and his eyes rake over me from head to toe. I wish I could tell what he’s thinking. He’s so intense. He remains quiet. His lips thin and his eyes darken. He doesn’t speak a word, he just watches me.
In my nervousness I feel the need to fill the silence.
“I didn’t know you wanted to go out. You kinda sprung it on me at the last moment.”
I swallow and force myself to walk forward. I’m going to have to go around him to get to the kitchen in order to get to my purse, I left it on the counter. If he even still wants to go out. His face looks so dark, I don’t know what to think.
“I didn’t know what to wear. Am I too dressed up?” I ask and my voice sounds breathless.
My heart is hammering in my chest. I thought I wanted him to see me for what I am but I hoped he would be cool with it. The way he’s looking at me is totally savage. I’m afraid he’s angry. Maybe he feels deceived?
I gulp and he growls at me to, “Come here.”
My body instantly reacts, my feet obeying his command. Inside I’m wincing as if I can sense the storm brewing. Still, I find myself walking up to him, like a moth drawn to the flame.
“Do you still want to go out?” I feel the need to ask, tipping my head back. The closer I get to him, the more I have to look up.
“No,” he says and I’m so shocked, so hurt, I stop walking.
I have the sudden urge to run.
This was a mistake. I should have guessed. I’m not what he wants at all. He’s probably angry at me and going to take it out on me. Just like Ethan. As if to make my fear real, Chase reaches out, grabs me, and pulls me into his hard chest.
“You look so fucking hot,” he breathes out. I feel the heat of his breath against my hair. “I want to stay right here with you.”