Page 103 of Shades of Silver City

Gods, she is indescribably beautiful. The dress shows just enough skin to incite temptation without being gaudy, and her makeup is as bold as she is.

Except…her usual confidence is nowhere to be found.

I frown as I take her in.

“What?” she whispers, wrapping her arms around her midsection. “Do I look stupid?”

Blinking a few times, I try to process how on earth she could ever assume that.

Scathe, from where he lies in the middle of the room, angles his head toward me.

You’re in over your head, buddy. Are you prepared for this?

I fight the urge to glare at him.

“No—not at—” My voice is hoarse, and I don’t know if I’m replying to Tasia or Scathe at this point.

Reaching for my cup of water on the counter beside me, I gulp it greedily, unsure of what to say. I quickly turn to the sink, busying myself with refilling the cup.

“You look hot as shit,” Godric says.

“Wow—thanks,” Tasia replies hesitantly, as if she’s caught off guard by his attention.

That makes two of us.

Whirling around, I catch them both staring at me.

I raise a brow. “What?”

Tasia’s smile wavers. Godric presses his lips together tightly as he gives me a wide-eyed look I can’t decipher.

I admire Tasia’s appearance again. She looks like a work of art. Perfectly made-up. Impossibly beautiful.

My skin overheats, and I’m fighting a hard-on like a twelve-year-old boy seeing a nude woman for the first time.

She certainly is beautiful, but I can’t help but notice her slightly slumped posture, the way she fiddles restlessly with her skirts, how she keeps double-checking the dress.

This isn’t her.

Tasia is most comfortable in pants and an old T-shirt. Hell, she’s probably more comfortable in a pair of my old boxers.

And what truly makes her breathtaking is her sassy, unshakable confidence.

I hate that it’s missing.

Clearing my throat, I finally say, “You look better in jeans.”

Immediately, I know it’s the wrong thing to say, because Godric groans, and his hands fly up to his face.

Tasia squints at me for a second. Then her face falls.

Shit on a stick, you suck at this, Scathe says. This is too painful to watch.

With a yawn, the hellhound rises and trots out of the room.

Language!

Piss off, he says.

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