Page 1

Brooke

This is a bad idea.

Hell, even the devil on my shoulder keeps asking me to pause and rethink my decision. That, coupled with the concerned looks my best friend keeps sending my way should be enough to discourage me from going along with what I have planned for tonight.

My mind is already made up.

There is no amount of side eye from Scarlett that's going to change that.

Not even a Windy City tornado could keep me in tonight.

Well, technically, that's not true since a tornado could kill me, and death would for sure dampen my plans for the evening, but that’s admittedly the only thing that would stop me from going out tonight.

Now if only this damn dress would cooperate!

“I think it's a size too small,” Scarlett offers unhelpfully from my bed, where she's been watching and silently judging me all evening. “Maybe you should wear one of your old dresses or…hear me out, we could stay in tonight. Order pizza and watch that boring movie you like so much.”

“ The Notebook is not boring,” I say, gritting my teeth as I tug the stubborn dress over my hips. “And no, we’re still going out tonight. Also, can you stop judging me for like a second and help me with this dress?”

“I'm not judging you,” she says, but she climbs off the bed and walks over to me.

She stops behind me and studies the dress, sucking air through her teeth at the scrap of fabric trying passing as a dress.

Sure, it's small, but it's a stunning piece—a deep shade of emerald green that catches in the light beautifully and brightens my gray eyes.

It's not like the store didn't have my usual size either, but I wanted something that would really hug my curves.

Something that would look scandalous on me.

“I mean, do you really think it's a good idea to go out dressed like this? And to a club of all places?” She gives it another once-over. “Can you even breathe in that thing?”

“The point is not to breathe,” I insist. And no, it’s not a good idea to go out in a dress that barely covers my butt.

I would even go as far as to say that it's a terrible idea, but I am trying to make a statement and this is the only way I can think to do so.

Everyone— he —is used to seeing me in boring jeans and sweaters.

It's no wonder everyone still thinks I'm a kid despite carrying an ID that says the opposite, but this dress should prove that I am not a little girl anymore.

That is, if I can get it zipped. “My mind is made up, Scarlett. Now please help me.”

With a sigh, she steps forward and tugs at the sides, and with a little effort, it slides over my hips and small waist. After sliding into the sleeves, now comes the hard part.

“You're going to have to cut this dress off,” Scarlett says, and I suck in a deep breath as she tugs up the zipper, pulling it with so much effort I am half terrified that it's going to break.

With each tug, I feel the fabric stretching, and I hold my breath, hoping it stretches just a little.

“Or maybe you won't have to cut it off.” Her eyes find mine in the mirror, and I spy the sly look on her face. “Maybe your wish will finally come true and the man you’ve been drooling over all these years will simply tear it off you before the night is over.”

I gasp at her words. The thought of the man I love helping me out of the dress leaves me feeling warm all over.

It makes that small sensitive part of my body that trembles any time I think of him pulse wildly, but like a bucket of walk water, reality quickly comes crashing in and stomps on the fantasy.

“He thinks I'm a child,” I huff, annoyed by the unbidden thought.

“Not in this dress, he won't.”

I shrug off the thought. I can't think about him now. That'll only make me start to second-guess myself. “Are you almost done?”

“Close, but Jesus, Brooke. How are you going to breathe in this?”

“I don’t need to breathe,” I wheeze. “What really matters is how my butt looks in the dress.”

“Molded to perfection,” she grunts with one final tug, and the zipper glides up. I let out a relieved sigh when the seams holds. “Okay, I have to admit. The dress does look gorgeous on your curves.”

“Yeah,” I mutter as I step back from the mirror to get a full view of the outfit.

I hardly recognized myself. The dress hugs my curves perfectly, accentuating my figure in ways I've never seen before. The neckline dips so low, it accentuates my cleavage, and the fitted waist cinches in to create a beautiful silhouette. I give a little twirl, smiling at how tight my ass looks in the dress. Luckly, it isn’t so short as to be indecent, since it’s too tight to wear panties underneath.

My ribs are no doubt going to feel sore when I finally take off the dress, but this is a necessary sacrifice.

Maybe when he spots me in this dress, he'll finally stop seeing me as a little girl, but as the woman I've grown into. It's about time he started treating me like one too. Tonight, I'll show that grump. He'll have no choice but to see me for what I truly am.

“Do you really need to go this far? If you bend down, the dress will snap you in half.” Scarlett comments, stepping next to me in the mirror and running a hand over her own dress, a short black number that is not nearly as tight as mine, but she's not trying to make a statement with hers, so there's that.

Her hazel eyes lock with my gray ones in the mirror and I read apprehension in them.

“You know you're going to have a lot of attention on you tonight, don't you? Not just his.”

“I don’t care. I’m only doing this to get the attention of one stubborn man.”

“I know, but… What if he doesn’t show up?

There are going to be other men at the club, and anyone that has eyes and knows how to use them will be able to tell that you're young and pretty for the picking.” Scarlett grabs a hair clip from the dresser and moves behind me.

She traces her fingers over the strands of my brown hair layered with teal highlights and begins to style it.

“Tons of guys will approach you, and most will even try to touch you.”

“I know, Scarlett. I am not completely naive. That’s why I’m not doing this alone. You’ll be with me.”

She hums, pushing back to admire her work. “But you are naive and innocent. Men will sniff you out the moment you enter the club. And then they will be on you like bee to nectar.”

“Are you trying to scare me into not going out?”

She shakes her head and meets my eyes again. “No, I just want you to be sure you know what you are doing. If the man you are doing all this for doesn’t show—”

“He'll be there,” I say with enough conviction. The man seems to be everywhere these days, blending with the shadows and following me around like a guard dog and I am some little girl he’s tasked with protecting. But I haven't been a little anything in years. He just hasn't noticed.

He'll stalk me as he always does, but this time, it won't to be to some boring café or college campus. No, it will be to one of the most popular clubs in the city, and I intend to walk in there dressed to get noticed. This time, I'll force him out of the shadows.

This isn’t my first attempt to do so. I’ve tried so many ways to pull him into the light with no success.

I put teal highlights in my hair and got no reaction.

Then I tried to ride my late father’s motorcycle by myself.

He simply signed me up for lessons. I even went so far as scheduling a sky diving trip, but he called and canceled my appointment.

This time, he won’t have a choice but to show up himself. I won't be so easy to ignore anymore.

“Okay fine, I won't stop you if you've already made up your mind on this,” she says, with a sigh before walking back to the bed. “Finish getting ready, I'll order us an Uber.”

She might think it’s a bad idea, but I know my best friend has my back. In a lot of ways, I know Scarlet is just as innocent as me. But she’s so confident and has a “don’t mess with me” attitude. Without her company, I doubt I’d have the nerve to go to the club.

I inspect the makeup Scarlett brought to my apartment. There isn't much to it, but it's more than I typically would use. I pick up the red lipstick and walk closer to the mirror. For the first time since I came up with this plan…I hesitate.

Will he like it?

I've put so much effort into my physical appearance to get him to see me as an object of attraction, but...this isn’t the real me.

What if my plan works and I get his attention then lose it when I go back to my usual look?

With a sigh, I uncap the red lipstick and bring it to my lips, hesitating once more. What if he doesn’t even like this look?

In all the years I've known him, I've never seen him with a girl or heard him speak about one.

If he's had relationships, then he kept them hidden from me.

There is no way of telling if he has a type.

I push back the jealousy at the thought of another girl having him and in ways I've only ever dared to dream about.

“Our Uber will be here in five minutes.” With another sigh, I quickly trace my lips with the red lipstick, careful not to smudge it before finally capping it. “We need to get going, Brooke.”

“Alright, I'm done,” I say, sliding into the heels I bought specifically for tonight before hurriedly grabbing my purse. I give myself a once-over in the mirror, surprised by the stranger staring back at me.