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Oscar’s face falls. “Brawler was my fight organizer. That’s it.”
“And you knew Johnny, too...”
“My boss?” he scoffs like I’m being ridiculous. “I didn’t have anyone.” He turns to look at me, his hands still laced behind his head like it’s a lazy Sunday afternoon instead of the real reason why we’re in the car. “It’s been a long time since I had anyone I could count on.”
“Well, that shit’s changed,” I say. “For all of us.”
He nods and returns to stare at the road in front of us. “I found some tape of me playing, by the way. I’m thinking of sending it out. What’s the worst that could happen?”
My mouth drops, but I reign my emotion back in. I don’t want to pounce on the idea and scare him off. “I’ll help,” I tell him. “Whatever you need, I want to be in on it.”
He reaches over to squeeze my thigh. “For the first time, I think my dream of actually getting the fuck out of the Heights could happen.”
I press my lips together and suppress the emotions welling up inside. Oscar saying that means everything.
28
Just like we knew she would be, Lynette was discreet as we hit up her dress shop. She gave me a huge smile when Oscar and I walked in. None of the girls who were working there the first time I met her are working there now. Not that it should be a surprise. Glo had tried to kill me and the other girl fucked Johnny in a back dressing room.
The image of him doing that only stings in the way you would think of anyone you love being with someone else. Johnny and I definitely weren’t a thing then. He was too many kinds of crazy and messed up in the head. He’s nothing like that now. Now, he wouldn’t dare do that. He wouldn’t think of doing anything like that, and that’s how I know he’s changed.
Which also means I can be in the store and not want to gag either.
Lynette walks me around her shop and almost exactly the opposite of how I acted the first time, I take charge of picking out the dress. I tap my finger on my lips. “I’m looking for something purple,” I say, thinking of my boxing attire.
She smiles. “Makes sense.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’ve been to my fights?”
“Who hasn’t?”
My stomach bottoms out from under me. “Tell me you weren’t at the last one.”
“No, thankfully,” she says, giving me a tight-lipped smile. “You’ve been through so much while you’ve been here.”
I nod, searching through the rack in front of me, going for all the purple fabric.
“This way,” Lynette says. “I think I got the perfect one for you. I actually thought of you as soon as it came in.” She whisks away to a straight rack along a wall. She pushes up onto her tiptoes and brings down a royal purple dress. Wait, shorts.
My mouth drops as she lays it over her hands so I can see the design. It’s a low-cut V-neck, practically dipping to my navel, but that’s not the coolest part. The coolest part is that it’s literally shorts with long pieces of fabric that go to the floor, giving the illusion that it’s a dress when it’s really not. “I need it,” I say automatically.
She grins. “I was hoping you’d like it. Come on.”
She takes me back to the same dressing room I was in before. Just before we disappear around the corner, I glance over my shoulder. Oscar’s staying outside, casually walking back and forth down the block. He made sure I was alone in here before I started looking but wanted to keep his distance without leaving me by myself, too.
I take the outfit from Lynette and pull the curtain closed. I shuck off the joggers and shirt I’ve been living in lately and pull on the beautiful outfit. The long sleeves give it a business sexy look, but I’m not going to lie, I’m fucking in love with it.
I stare at my nipples. Or, at least, the imprint of my nipples in the mirror. “Little problem, Lynette,” I say. “I need something for the girls.”
“Ah, of course. Be right back.” She leaves while I turn to stare at my ass in the mirror. The extra fabric hides the curve of my figure while showing off just enough too. The drapes of royal purple in the front give it the illusion of a dress when I really am wearing pants that I can move around in and not have to worry I’m showing off my privates to anyone. “Here,” Lynette says. The curtains part, and she hands me a box.
I take it from her and glance at it. They’re bra cups, kind of. Clear, almost flower petal in shape.
Lynette tells me exactly how to put them on while I use the mirror for help. When they’re in place, I shift this way and that, making sure no one can tell what I’m wearing underneath. Honestly, these things are fucking amazing.
I whip the curtain open and Lynette’s jaw hits the floor. She squeals. “Yassss. I knew you would look amazing in that. You just have to get it.”
“Oh, I’m getting it,” I say. “I actually need it for tonight, so I’ll wear it out of here if that’s okay?”