Page 16 of True Honey (The Hornets Nest #4)

COURTNEY

“ A re you alright?” he asked, his hand wrapping gently around my bicep.

“Yeah,” I lied, my eyes still on the ring.

“Are you sure, we can take a break…shop later…” He started to pivot the plans we had set out and I stopped him.

“We have to be back in Harbor—”

“I didn’t forget. That was just a lot and I’m checking to make sure that you’re ready to handle more,” he said to me.

I took a second to steady myself, breathing in and out trying to convince myself with each breath that I could pull this off, if not for me but for August. For our future. It was just shopping, with a rich doctor who’d probably never done a single thing wrong in his entire perfect life…

“I’m ready,” I nodded.

He eyed me for a second, and in a pathetic attempt to distract myself I let my eyes wander over him as the sun highlighted the peppering of gray in his dark hair.

The small scar on the right side of his forehead and the two patterns of freckles that danced across his jaw.

I hadn’t really noticed how attractive he was until I was knee-deep and overwhelmed by every little noise around me.

It was like everything was muted outside the tight bubble that wrapped around us.

“Before we do this, two rules,” he said, standing in front of me with his arms down at his sides and a serious look on his face.

“One, you see something you like, you buy it. No arguments,” he said and I opened my mouth to argue.

“Don’t immediately break rule one,” he laughed, the lines around his eyes crinkling in response.

“It’s just a lot to remember,” I said, finding my voice even if it was quiet.

Silas’s laughter faded into a smirk, “rule two, if you don’t like something that they bring you, or suggest, don’t take it just to make anyone feel better.”

“Shouldn’t I be looking for things your mother will like?” I asked him.

“No.” Silas shook his head. I was slightly confused on what he wanted me to do, if impressing his mother was the answer to his problems then wouldn’t he want me to dress for her?

“My mother will see right through us if we pander to her, she’s too smart for that.

We have to elevate your voice, so pick what you want. ”

Ella’s words echoed: Silas gets all his intelligence from her.

What if I didn’t know what I wanted? What I liked?

I thought, staring up at the massive glimmering store front.

I wore jeans and old t-shirts every single day, the last time I had bought something off the rack was before I was pregnant with August. I’d lost whatever sense of style I had in the last thirteen years of mentally abusing myself and my body.

“Follow me,” he said, reaching for the door and swinging it open for me.

He led me inside, his hand warm and steady against my lower back as I navigated each shaky step.

The store inside was just as expected, high ceilings and wooden beams all connected to give it a sleek yet warm aesthetic that should have been welcome.

If not for the two women behind the counter, their expressions souring the moment they saw me.

A low groan left Silas and his hand left mine to dig into his jean pockets, he pulled out his wallet. Whipping it open as he wandered toward the staring women he pressed something to the counter loudly, making them both turn their heads.

“I’ll get a drink,” he said to them, looking back at me before he turned on them again, “and some manners,” Silas added with a polite smile.

“Of course, Mr. Shore,” the blonde said, scooping up what he set down on the counter before starting to boss the other woman around.

“You know they never stare at me for wearing jeans in here,” he whispered with a funny look on his face as he returned to me. “Why are you still standing around, you have free reign.” He circled me until his chest was against my back. “Champagne?” he asked with a grin .

I went to shake my head but stopped, looking up at him over my shoulder and shrugged. “Sure.”

“On a school day? My little rebel,” he laughed, the lines around his gray eyes crinkling. “Start looking, I’ll be right back.”

Silas left me standing in the middle of the store and I felt so overwhelmed for a moment that I could cry before one of the women appeared to my left.

“Are you shopping for an event?” She asked.

“A few I guess?” I said and her brow furrowed as her eyes darted to the heavy ring on my finger, drawing attention to the lie we were stringing. “I’m in town for the month meeting my fiancé’s family before the wedding and the airline misplaced my entire suitcase.”

“Oh that's the worst!” It was like her mood had flipped completely and suddenly she was sympathetic to my ratty jeans and faded hoodie.

“Well let's get you out of these old things and find you some staple pieces before we get fancy with dresses…” she started to mumble as she walked away in a hurry.

Lying to her was as easy as flirting for tips, muscle memory by now. I could do this.

“Everything good?” Silas returned, handing me a skinny glass filled with bubbles that tickled my nose when I brought up to my lips.

“Yeah she went to pull me stuff,” I said, looking over at him. He looked impressed by my initiative and I couldn’t help but feel a little more confident about myself as his stare softened and his lips curled into a smile.

She returned a little while later and led us to a private changing area with couches and change rooms with thick curtains and dimmer lighting.

She had hung way too many clothes on the hook for me and took my glass from me before I could even finish, shutting the curtains in my face so I could start.

I stared at the hanging clothes not sure where to start and still in my jeans when Silas cleared his throat.

“You didn’t die in there, did you? You got quiet,” he said from just outside the curtain as his shoes appeared underneath it.

“Alive.” The single word made him laugh but I was still terrified of everything in front of me and I could feel the panic starting to set in.

What if even after all these fancy clothes I’m still not good enough to convince his family?

I held my hand up in the small warm light and stared at the ring that weighed heavy on my finger.

“Are you dressed?” He asked, interrupting my anxiety attack.

“Yes.”

The curtain flung open and he looked me up and down before his eyes raked over the hanging clothes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and leaned against the frame of the dressing room.

I thought about lying to him but swallowed the fear and confessed.

“I’m overwhelmed,” I said, and even though the words rolled off my tongue slowly and left a bad aftertaste in my mouth it felt good to say them out loud.

“Okay,” he said, his eyes darting back and forth as he straightened out.

“So, less options?” he asked, starting to rifle through the clothes.

“Start slow…” he mumbled, taking most of them into his arms and backing away to drop them on the love seat.

“Try those.” He pointed to the clothes left hanging. Two pants and two blouses. “Better?”

I felt my pulse slow down, and my breathing returned to normal as I nodded at him. I wanted to say thank you for helping but all that came out was, “better.”

He watched me for a moment longer, as if he didn’t believe me, before finally sinking back onto the couch and letting me close the curtain again.

In private I took a second to prepare myself before I stripped out of my clothes and pulled on the pants.

They fit my hips like a glove and hung in a loose drape that pooled at the floor without shoes on.

The first shirt was a glittery silver tank top that fit too loose around my neckline and made my skin look pale.

“Drew?” Silas’s voice floated over the curtain and made me pause, “everything okay?”

I reached out to the curtain, thinking about drawing it back and stopped.

“I don’t think I like this,” I said, peeking out around the curtain instead.

Silas leaned forward on his knees sipping on whatever was in his glass with a tight jaw.

I don’t even know why I told him that but something about Silas had turned me into something August would describe as a ‘trauma dumping weirdo’ and wasn’t really a fan of it.

He set the glass down and looked at me with such a serious expression I could feel his encouragement from across the room. What I hadn’t expected was for him to ask a question so simple that made me feel so complicated. “What don’t you like about it?”

“Uh,” I paused, looking down at the shirt and thought a little harder about it.

“There has to be something,” Silas said as he rose from the couch, “and if it’s the price tag…”

“I know, I know,” I said, finally finding the courage to pull back the curtain the entire way.

“Oh,” his lips parted as he took me in.

“It’s bad,” I sighed, wanting to cover up. To cross my arms over my exposed neckline, or to retreat back into my hoodie and never be seen again.

“Only because it’s making you uncomfortable,” he said, still rooted in place. “Not because you don’t look amazing.”

“It’s too silver and there’s not enough of it,” I said, looking down at the way it wrapped around my stomach and clung weirdly in all the most exposing spots. “I feel like a busted-up can of sardines.”

I wasn’t used to being on such a display. I used bigger sizes to hide the body that I couldn’t stand to look at anymore and now every single rigid curve of it was on display.

Silas chuckled.

“It’s not funny,” I said quietly and his smile dropped. He swiveled, looking at the piles of clothing he had laid on the love seat and started to shuffle things out of it. “What are you doing?”

“Removing anything silver or designed for someone half your age,” he said, concentrating on the clothing inside of me. “What about this one?” He asked, holding up a dark blouse with cap sleeves and pretty shiny detailing around the collar.

“Yeah,” I said, reaching out for it. His fingers brushed against mine as I took it and I could feel his eyes on my back as I retreated to the fitting room.

“For what it’s worth, you’d put all the other tin cans to shame in that,” he said as I closed the curtain .

I laughed under my breath as I slipped from the ugly tank top.

“I heard that laugh,” he said, his voice muffled behind the curtain.

The new shirt fit better and covered more areas of my chest that I was uncomfortable with, so did all of the other shirts he continued to hand me.

Eventually we weeded out anything that I didn’t feel comfortable in and even found a few pieces that I genuinely liked including a few dresses that Silas insisted upon for the fancier events.

Once he’d set up the delivery he ushered me from the store, getting me something to eat quickly before promising to have me home to August by the time school was out.

He helped me with my helmet again, staring at me with a soft expression that didn’t leave space for me to feel anything but seen. “You did really well today,” he said with a smile before he shut the visor on his own helmet and climbed onto the bike.

I glanced at the ring again and nodded. Maybe I could pull this off. For August.

And maybe even for myself.