Why We Fight (At First Sight 4)

“Okay?”

I nodded. I slipped my shirt up and over my head, dropped it on Charlie’s bed. I crossed my arms over my chest as a reflex. I wasn’t embarrassed, per se, but I felt oddly vulnerable.

Charlie made quick work of it. He unzipped the front and slid it over my shoulders like a jacket. I put my arms w

here they were supposed to go, feeling the weight of it against my skin. It was heavier than I expected. It was also a little loose, even when he zipped up the front. He fixed that, as there were apparently straps on the back that could be tightened. Last, he pulled against the strap over my shoulder until it was snug.

He stepped back, eyeing me up and down.

I looked away. “Is it okay?”

“You look wonderful,” he said quietly. “Check it out.”

I stepped in front of the mirror. I took in a sharp breath at my reflection. The corset had a strange dichotomy to it. The leather and studs made it look fiercely masculine. The way it hugged my chest and revealed the sides of my hips was distinctly feminine. It was a duality I wasn’t expecting. The black leather brightened my skin, and the studs seemed shinier than they’d been before. And while it wasn’t the most comfortable thing I’d ever worn, even I could admit I didn’t look half-bad.

Charlie came up behind me and fiddled with the shoulder strap.

“I’m probably going to sweat my ass off in this,” I said, still staring at the mirror.

“It has a lining on the inside that’ll help some,” Charlie said. “But that’s a price we pay for wearing leather. But it should be no worse than when you’re on the dance floor at Jack It in the middle of a crowd.”

“You don’t think I look… fake, or whatever?”

He shook his head. “I think you look daddy as fuck.”

I gaped at him in the mirror.

He frowned. “Did I say that right? Daddy as fuck?”

“I don’t know,” I said faintly. “I’m still trying to process those words coming out of your mouth.”

HE LEFT me alone in his room, telling me to come out when I was ready. Before he closed the door, he said he wouldn’t be offended if I decided against it. “Paul and Vince and Sandy won’t be disappointed either. We might pick and poke, but not when it truly matters.”

And then he was gone. I heard the floor creak as he walked down the hall.

I looked back at the mirror. If you’d told me twenty-four hours ago that I’d be standing in Charlie’s room with an afro looking like a biracial Aragorn, I would have laughed in your face.

Funny how things work out.

I straightened the corset unnecessarily, trying to buy myself some time.

“You can do this,” I muttered at my reflection. “You got this.”

I almost believed me.

Before I could lose my nerve, I was out of Charlie’s room and down the hall.

The conversation being held in the living room came to a screeching halt the moment they saw me.

“Holy shit,” Vince breathed. “Dude. You look amazing.”

“Oh, this ol’ thing?” I said, acting braver than I felt. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s absolutely not nothing,” Sandy said. “Corey, I don’t even look that good wearing a corset. Christ. You’re giving me a complex.”

From a drag queen, that was the highest compliment one could receive.

“Is he allowed to bring a sword inside the leather bar?” Paul asked Charlie. “Because he looks like he needs a sword. And that’s not something I ever expected to say.” He winked at me. “Looking good, Corey. Don’t be surprised if you’re voted Mr. Leatherperson by unanimous vote, even though you’re not competing.”