Since that’s not my usual style, the price tag is still dangling from the pocket. I have no idea what my mother was thinking when she picked it up.
Unsure why she’s throwing clothes at me, I point to the small pile. “What’s that about?”
“You need to change.” She gives me a look that says—duh before clapping her hands together. “Chop-chop.”
Changing my clothes was not part of the plan. I’m fine with going in my pajamas. It’s not like I’m looking for a hookup. Or anything else, for that matter.
I shake my head and fold my arms across my chest. “No, thank you.”
Her gaze rakes over me as she points at my T-shirt. “Is that a coffee stain on your boob?”
With a frown, I glance at my chest and inspect the dark spot marring the fabric of my right breast. My guess is that she’s right. Caramel Macchiato, to be specific. “Possibly.”
Her lips flatten. “I refuse to go anywhere with you looking like that.”
“Great!” I stretch out before stacking my hands behind my head. “What kind of movie night does it feel like to you? Romcom? Horror? Psychological thriller? Angsty tearjerker?” A benevolent smile curves my lips. “You can choose.”
Alyssa stomps her foot on the carpeted floor. “Mia!” she wails at a decibel that could shatter eardrums. A few neighborhood dogs howl in response. “You promised!”
Promised?
No, I don’t think so.
I scrunch my nose and tap a finger against my lips. “I don’t believe I ever promised to do anything. Reluctantly agreed? Yes. Was browbeaten into capitulating? Definitely. But promised? Not in this lifetime.”
When she straightens to her full height, I groan, knowing exactly what’s about to happen. “Mia Evelyn Stanbury! Do I need to remind you who was there when—”
Argh.
This is the portion of the evening where Alyssa trots out every damn thing she’s ever done for me until I relent. And she’ll start with Harper Hastings. The girl who bullied me relentlessly in seventh grade because Xander Rossi asked me to the movies instead of her. After months of Harper’s meanspirited attacks, Alyssa waited for the girl after school. My bestie let it be known that if Harper didn’t cease and desist, she’d spread the good word that the other girl was a known bra stuffer. It must have been true, since Harper immediately backed off and I never heard a peep from her again.
“Yes, yes, Harper Hastings,” I mutter, not appreciating the direction this conversation has swerved in.
Alyssa folds her arms across her chest as a smug smile twists her lips upward. “Harper Hastings is only the beginning, my friend.” She arches a brow. “Need I continue?”
Silently we glare before I fold like a cheap house of cards. “Fine, I’ll change.” I straighten before scooping up the skirt and top and shaking them at her. “It’s only because I love you and you’re my best friend that I’m even willing to step foot next door.”
An angelic smile spreads across her pretty face before she blows me a kiss. “Love you, too. Now kindly move your assets.”
“An hour,” I remind. “That’s all you get.”
Looking unconcerned, she waves a hand. “No worries, that’s more than enough time to work my magic.”
What she means to say is that it’s more than enough time for Colton to ignore her, all the while hooking up with another girl. Part of me almost wishes he would sleep with Alyssa. Maybe then the rose-colored glasses would come off and she would realize what a douche the guy is.
In one fluid motion, the stained T-shirt is stripped from my body and replaced with the shimmery gold tank. Then I slide off the comfy shorts I’ve been lounging in and yank on the tiny rectangle of material that doubles as a skirt.
I step in front of my floor-to-ceiling mirror that’s propped against the wall and stare at my reflection before attempting to tug the skirt further down my thighs, but it’s useless. There’s not a spare inch of material to be found.
What the hell was my mother thinking when she picked this up? Was she mistakenly shopping in the toddler section? That’s the only reasonable explanation.
I turn around and bend over, touching my toes before peering over my shoulder to the mirror. It’s as I suspected. My thong is on full display. Actually, it doesn’t even look like I’m wearing underwear since the material is wedged between the crack of my ass like dental floss.
Lovely.
Not to mention uncomfortable.
“Is there a second option to consider?” My gaze slides to Alyssa’s in the mirror. “One where my ass isn’t hanging out?”
“’Fraid not. I’m seriously loving the whole—is she or isn’t she wearing panties guessing game you’ve got going on.” She winks. “Play your cards right and maybe you’ll get lucky tonight.”
I narrow my eyes as my lips thin. “Believe it or not, I’m perfectly content being unlucky.”