Page 66 of Can You Take It?

“Why would you give that to her?” she asks my dad.

He stands up, crossing his arms. “She’s grown up, don’t you think?”

My mom’s eyes dart to me. “She’s only eight. Izel, put it down.”

“But I like it!” I protest, holding the dress closer.

“I said put it down,” she repeats.

“No!” I shout, clutching the dress tighter. I love it, and I don’t want to let it go.

My dad’s eyes flick to my mom. “Let her have it. She deserves something nice.”

My mom looks at him, then back at me. “Izzie, please. You don’t understand.”

I glare at her. “I understand enough! I want to keep it!”

She sighs, defeated, and turns away, picking up the fallen cake. My dad pats my head, his approval making me feel like I’ve won a battle.

“Good girl,” he says, and for a moment, I feel special.

“Do you like it?”

I force a smile, feeling a lump in my throat. “It’s beautiful. Thank you. But why all of a sudden?”

He grins at my reaction, revealing that charming, lopsided smile that always makes my heart race.

“We’re going out for dinner tonight,” he announces, and I smile back. His ability to make me forget about everything else is nothing short of magical.

In my room, I struggle to put on the dress. It isn’t that I’ve never worn one before; it’s just the idea of receiving something so lovely, something so utterly normal, that leaves me flustered. The dress is elegant, with a high slit and a flowing silhouette that brushes the ground. I can only imagine how out of place I must look in such attire. My cheeks flush with an uncharacteristic warmth. It almost feels like a blush, but I shake it off. I lost that ability ages ago.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I feel a mix of emotions. Part of me feels vulnerable, exposed in this beautiful dress, yet there’s also a sense of excitement that I haven’t experienced in a long time. Is this how others feel on a regular basis, the simple thrill of getting dressed up and going out. It’s foreign and intoxicating, a glimpse into a life I’ve only seen from the shadows.

“Izel, you can do this. You’ve faced far worse than a zipper,” I muster as I struggle with the dress. It’s a battle of fabric and skin, and for once, it’s a battle I’m determined to win.

Richard leans casually against the door, and I catch him looking at me through the mirror. Time seems to slow down as my hand, previously occupied with the zipper, freezes in place. My breath catches in my throat as I take in his appearance in a tuxedo. I’ve only ever seen him in business suits before, but the tux... he looks nothing short of breathtaking.

His broad shoulders, the perfectly tailored jacket, the crisp white shirt, and that black tie make him appear like the epitome of an attractive man. His dark, wavy hair is slightly tousled, adding to his charm. I find myself unable to look away from thereflection in the mirror. It’s as though someone has captured the essence of pure charisma and poured it into this man.

His playful eyes meet mine in the mirror, and he’s smirking. “Do you need help with that?”

“What, you think I can’t handle a simple zipper?” I narrow my eyes playfully.

He pushes himself off the door, his steps slow and deliberate as he approaches me. I watch him in the mirror, acutely aware of how close he’s getting. He stops right behind me. With a feather-light touch, his fingers brush away a stray strand of hair that had fallen across my neck.

“In that case,” he whispers, his warm breath against my ear causing goosebumps to form on my skin, “I’ll just stand here and watch you struggle.”

I turn my attention back to the zipper. In truth, I’m tempted to accept his offer. But I can’t let him see that. With a huff, I give the zipper one last tug, and it finally zips up smoothly. I turn to meet his eyes, a smug smile playing on my lips.

“See,” I quip, “I’ve got this, I don’t need you after all.”

“Impressive,” he concedes, stepping even closer.

My breath hitches as he leans down to place a kiss on my cheek, and his words in my ear are loaded with a promise that ignites a fire within me.

“You look incredible,” he whispers in my ear. “I want to take you out in that dress and show you off to the world. But more than that, I want to tear it off you and make you scream my name until you’re breathless andneed mefor everything.”

Before I can give in to the overwhelming temptation, Richard straightens and takes a step back.

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