Page 7 of Stuck with a Billionaire Rockstar

“I’d rather not,” I mumble.

She rolls her eyes. “What’s the worst that could happen, babe?”

Oh, I don’t know, I could make a fool of myself in front of dozens of men and never be able to show my face on the resort again. That’s what I want to say, but I keep that statement locked tightly in my head and instead smile at her appreciatively. “You’re right, and I know you’re just looking out for me.”

Either that, or she’s sick of having a friend who can’t bring a man back home to save her life.

“Great, so let’s get that outfit together!” Mallory digs through her suitcase, throwing different fabrics at me in the process that garner a few raised brows.

There’s what looks like a crop top, but as far as I can tell, it looks as though it only covers her boobs, and that’s it. The idea of showing that much skin makes my stomach churn, and I throw that piece of fabric onto the floor, creating a no pile in front of the king-sized bed. Once my lap is overflowing with clothes, Mallory finally takes a deep breath and spins around to face me with her eyes darting over everything.

“Hm,” she says, tapping her chin with a perfectly manicured fingernail. “I’m thinking you could wear this.” I watch as she snatches a bright red shimmery top from the pile, tossing it over my shoulder so that it lands on the bed before her eyes trace over the other pieces of fabric with concentration. “Ooh,” she says, her brown eyes brightening. “Your ass would look amazing in this.”

I stare blankly at the small scrap of leather she’s got dangled in front of my face, then look up at her with a frown. “It looks like it could be a bra. You can’t be serious!”

“Come on, humor me,” Mallory says before shaking the fabric in front of me. “Just this once. Please?”

God, I hate when she pulls this shit with me. She knows damn well I can never say no when she begs because that’s what happens when you have a good heart. Mallory is going out of her way to help me, so why shouldn’t I let her dress me up for the night? I grab the leather skirt from her fingers, gaining a bright smile from her, then bend over for the red shirt. “If this looks terrible, I’m going back to my usual.”

Mallory winks. “Oh, don’t worry, babe. You ain’t gonna know what hit ya when you walk out.”

***

Mallory wasn’t wrong. I’ll give her that.

For the thousandth time, as we get to the front entrance of the club, I tug the leather skirt down even though it hasn’t worked for me thus far. I can feel the warm breeze blow across my ass, which is enough to tell me this thing I’m wearing is much too small for my liking.

You’re doing this for Mallory.

That’s all I have to keep reminding myself. She went all out on me tonight, convincing me that the outfit wouldn’t look right if I didn’t let her do her thing. So, that’s what I let her do. Within a couple hours my soft waves were long gone, replaced with tighter curls bouncing down my shoulders, and she had this smokey look going with my eyes that really made the green pop.

I hated to say that I loved what she did if only it didn’t include my ass hanging out in the skirt.

It doesn’t take long for the line inside to move, the bouncers merely waving them off, and it’s not lost on me when one of the large men trails their gaze down my bare legs. My cheeks heat at the attention and I fidget in place, trying my hardest to shield myself behind Mallory, but she steps aside with an amused grin.

“Mal,” I hiss and link my arm through hers.

She shakes her head. “Uh uh, babe. Own it, don’t shy away from the attention.”

Doesn’t she realize I’m nothing like her? While she shakes her hips as men give her the attention she deserves, my muscles are tight from the attention because I feel like everyone is judging me. What if the skirt is making my hips look huge instead of flattering?

My neck prickles with awareness, and I dart my gaze along the crowd, noting the multiple pairs of eyes that are focused on my ass. Instinctively, I bring my hand around and tug at the edge of the skirt, only to blow out a rough breath when it does nothing for me – just like every other time.

“Jules,” Mallory says beside me, her hand falling onto mine as she pulls it away from the small fabric. “Calm down. Men like when you’re confident about it.” As if to prove a point, a guy close to us checks Mallory out, and she waves with a flirty smile on her face before walking toward an empty table situated by the dance floor.

It only takes two minutes before a throat clears behind us, and we both turn, my eyebrows jumping at the one who was just checking her out. “You look like you could use a drink,” he rasps to Mallory.

“Is that so?” Mallory asks, leaning against the table and letting her cleavage do the rest of the work for her. She looks over at me and smiles. “Mind if I go get a drink?”

I wave a hand at her. “Be my guest.” I’d already figured it wouldn’t take long for someone to approach her, so I was prepared for this moment before we got to the club. Thankfully, it’s a club that’s located on the resort, so when I’m ready to go back to our suite, I don’t have to worry about dragging Mallory away from her fun.

While Mallory lets this stranger take her over to the bar, I lean back into my chair and watch the rest of the crowd with a frown on my face. There’s plenty of women throughout the space, confidence evident in their movements on the dance floor, and it makes me frown that I can’t be anything like them.

“You seem lonely,” a rough voice says behind me. I jump up, and he chuckles. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

When the guy comes around the table, I eye him appreciatively. He’s got a bright blue shirt on that brings out the color of his eyes.

The stranger points to one of the empty chairs across from me and smiles. “This seat taken?”

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