Page 31 of Broken Rivalry

She straightens up, and the gracefulness of her movements always takes me by surprise.

“Indeed. We do,” Nessa replies sharply. “I would die if people thought I was with you.”

“At least your complexion would go with your style.”

I see appreciation in her eyes. Yep, that one is really like Cole.

“Here we go,” Poppy mutters, and I turn toward her, extending my arm to her.

“Shall we?”

She casts a brief, contemplative glance at my outstretched arm, a frown knitting her brows together. Then, without a word, she sidesteps me, choosing to walk ahead alone, her steps resolute and hurried.

“Burn!” Nessa snickers and rushes to join Poppy.

I follow them, my steps reverberating in the vastness of the mall.

Eva whispers, her voice a gentle murmur barely reaching my ears amid the mall’s ambient noise, “She’s been fighting for so long, I don’t think she remembers how to lay down her arms, how to surrender even a little.”

I glance down at her, surprised to see her there with me. I think it’s the first time she’s ever spoken to me. “It’s fine, I’m a patient man.”

She looks up and gives me a bright smile, revealing the gap in her front teeth, and I can understand now the obsession Cole has for the girl. But I also know that he is not good enough for her. Just like I’m not good enough for Poppy, but the big difference is that I know it, and he doesn’t.

We walk into the store with evening gowns, and I find a seat. Poppy turns to me, her eyes shining with apprehension and nervousness. “Promise you’ll be honest about how they look?” she asks.

“Always,” I reply, watching as she disappears into the fitting room.

I watch them going in and out trying on dresses, but the only one I really care about is Poppy. Each time she emerges, there’s a subtle tension in her posture, a hesitancy in her gaze, despite the stunning way each dress embraces her. It’s a far cry from the self-assured Poppy of our high school days, and the mystery of her change gnaws at me. When she emerges in a royal-blue dress that hugs her figure just right, my heart skips a beat. She looks stunning, and I can’t help but get lost in the way the fabric drapes so perfectly over her.

“That color suits you,” I can’t help but comment.

She gives a half smile. “You think?”

“Absolutely,” I affirm.

She clears her throat, and I lean to the side, trying to listen to what she is asking Nessa, who exited her own changing room in a black-and-deep-purple corset dress that frankly looks made for her.

A girl sidles up beside me, her voice a sultry purr. “You’re Ethan Hawthorne, aren’t you?”

The bubbling frustration reaches the top, and I don’t even try to be my charming self. “Indeed, I am,” I respond tersely, my gaze barely leaving Poppy for a second.

She smirks. “I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Jenna.”

“Nice to meet you, Jenna,” I reply, my tone curt.

“I’ve come to get a dress for the varsity ball. I know one player will definitely ask me out.”

I nod absentmindedly, my eyes still locked on Poppy. “Yes, there are a lot of desperate guys out there.” I smile as Poppy twirls, checking the dress in the mirror. “I’m sorry, whatever your name, but I’m with my girlfriend,” I add, pointing to Poppy, who is now looking at us through the mirror.

My smile widens, both at the elation I feel at using this word when referring to Poppy and for the hint of jealousy I’m sure I see in her eyes as she looks at us.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had a girlfriend.”

“Well, I do. Excuse me.” I rise deliberately slowly from my seat and make my way toward Poppy, leaving the girl, nameless and insignificant, visibly angry behind me.

I approach Poppy, tenderly wrapping my arms around her waist from behind. My breath hitches as I lean closer, my voice barely a whisper. “You are breathtaking.”

She stiffens. “What are you doing?” she hisses, resting her hands on my arms, tightening her fingers, ready to pull them open.

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