Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 53034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
My boobs are like grapefruits. They fill the dress and then some. My waist is thicker than it used to be and my arms are bigger. I just want to put my leggings and baggy hoodie back on.
“Let’s see, Talia,” Suki says.
I groan. “Don’t make me.”
“Get out here, ho!” Mara barks.
The woman in the dressing room next to me gasps, shocked. I smile as I open the dressing room door, not stepping out but letting them see me in the dress.
“It’s so pretty on you,” Suki says.
“That one’s a definite yes,” Mara says. “You’re going to need more than one dress if this shitshow is three days long. Let’s see the white one.”
I give them a pleading look. “I can’t wear that.”
“This is just a try-on,” Suki says. “No commitment.”
I groan and close the dressing room door. I’ve never worn a strapless dress in my life, and it seems like a horrible idea to try one on for the first time when I look and feel like the Pillsbury Doughboy.
Let’s get this over with.
I take the red dress off and put the ivory one on, unable to zip it all the way in the back. When I open the door a crack and say, “It’s a no, it won’t zip all the way”, Suki and Mara push their way into the dressing room, which isn’t exactly huge.
“Let me try to zip it,” Suki says.
“You’ll break the zipper. I’m too fat for it.”
“Bullshit,” Mara says. “I’d pay so much money to have your boobs. I’d lube those babies up with oil every night for my man.”
The woman in the room next to us scoffs with disgust. Mara smirks.
I feel the zipper slide up, locking me into the formfitting dress.
“It’s so gorgeous on you,” Mara says.
I’m wearing my regular bra, so it looks weird. The sheer ivory material washes me out right now, but like Mara said, with a spray tan ...
“It’s not bad,” I say weakly.
“Not bad?” Suki gathers my hair at my neck and holds it up at the crown of my head. “You look like a queen. With a tan, your hair up, and some jewelry, every man’s jaw will drop when they see you.”
“I’ve gained some weight, though, and—”
“Well, it went to all the right places,” Mara says. “This is the dress and Lucien is the guy.”
I crinkle my brow. “Okay, I’ll get the dress, but I still don’t know if I’m even going. Don’t say anything to Carter and Leo, okay?”
“We’d never do that to you,” Suki promises. “Do you want to try on the blue dress, too?”
I shake my head. “I’ll buy the red and white ones. Then let’s go check out the shoe section.”
Suki and Mara leave the dressing room and I glance in the mirror again. I don’t even look like myself in this dress. I look like Mara—a bold, confident woman who takes no shit.
I’m not, of course. But Kyle and Audra don’t have to know that. I just have to look like I’m thriving. And it would be a lot easier with a date.
I’d rather chew on broken glass than ask Lucien to be my pity date. Maybe I’ll just show up for the wedding and skip the rest of the festivities.
Yes, I can show up for the ceremony and then return to the comfort of my room at my dad’s. I’ll spend the rest of the break with my dear friend Little Debbie.
Chapter Eight
Lucien
* * *
I brush the snowflakes from my hair and ring Carter and Suki’s doorbell. A few seconds later, their pig Darling looks at me through the sidelight windows beside the door, pressing his nose to the glass.
Carter opens the door and frowns at the pig. “Get out of the way, Darling.”
Their pet moves farther into the doorway, completely blocking my entrance as he snuffles at my feet and legs.
“Hey, big guy.” I pet his head and scratch his ears like he’s a dog.
He’s wearing a Cleveland Crush sweater, his bulk stretching the letters out. Suki has all kinds of custom clothes made for him to wear in winter when it’s cold, but he still has to go outside to do his business.
“Hallie, call Darling!” Carter calls over his shoulder.
“Darling!” his youngest niece yells. “Come here, my Darling!”
The pig looks up at me with a glance that says, You understand, don’t you? before turning to trot away.
“Come on in,” Carter says. “We’re watching football. Harry’s helping the girls bake me a birthday cake.”
I step into the house, which smells like chocolate. Suki’s good friend Harry is a chef. Their home is a hub of sorts for their friends and family. Suki loves to host, and as the wife of our team captain, she plans and hosts a lot of informal get-togethers in their home.
“Thanks for the invite,” I say, taking my boots off and putting them on the big rug next to the door.