Page 78 of Exes and O's

“Stop messing with it,” I order, swatting his hand away. “And FYI, the vest is basically the historical version of a Henley. It’s a staple in the romance hero wardrobe.”

“What’s a Henley?”

I glare at him. “You did not just ask me what a Henley is.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Further proof you are not romance hero material,” I conclude, more for my own benefit, lest I slip up and continue to forget that glaring, indisputable fact.

Shockingly, he doesn’t debate it. He goes quiet for a moment before conceding, “I still don’t know what a Henley is.”

“It’s one of those cotton pullover shirts. Round collar with the little buttons? Scotty wears them all the time,” I explain, softening my tone.

He checks himself out again in the mirror. “I could rock those.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. They require a certain kind of swagger.” Truthfully, I’m both startled and affronted by the mental visual of his tattooed biceps, corded forearms, and broad chest doing overtime under an unbuttoned Henley. He’s going about his day, doing the normal things romance heroes do. Rolling up his sleeves. Leaning on various supportive structures, arms crossed to accentuate said biceps. Being an overall walking thirst trap. I’d follow him straight into a pyramid scheme in this getup.

“Swagger.Pft.” He waves my blatant lie away, unbothered, probably because he knows he looks flawless in just about anything (and nothing at all). He eyes his Disney costume in the mirror once more and whines like a small child. “Can I please lose the tights at least?”

Depriving the world of his ass in those pants would be an international war crime. “First, those are not tights. And you can’t get any worse than me. I’m basically a gigantic bumblebee.” I gesture to my ill-fitting yellow Belle gown. If I needed any proof that yellow does nothing for me, it’s right here and now in the mirror.

He makes no attempt to spare my feelings. “Why would you chooseBeauty and the Beastof all the princesses? She’s pretty damn boring, from what I remember.” He waves a dismissive hand at my excessively poofy dress like it’s a steaming pile of shit.

“I thought you said you didn’t watch Disney?”

“Not as an adult. I’ve seen all the old ones.”

I glower at him, my hand on my hip. “Well, if you must know, Belle and I are the most alike. We’re both bookworms, we try to see the good in people, we don’t like being told what to do. If you call her boring, you’re calling me boring.”

He tilts his head like a dog, giving the dress another gander. “I just meant her outfit is a little... much. With the bows and all the fabric. Why didn’t you go withLittle Mermaid?”

“We have an Ariel costume,” Glenda, the crotchety store owner, informs us from across the room, where she’s steaming a Captain America suit I’m tempted to rent for Scott, given his uncanny Chris Evans resemblance.

“We’re good with Belle, thanks,” I say gratefully, and turn back to Trevor. “You just want to see me in a shell bikini top.”

“Nobody would complain about that.” Is this Trevor’s way of admitting he wouldn’t mind seeing me, hisbest friend, in a seashell bra?

I tug at the itchy sleeve of my ball gown, unable to discernwhether he’s being serious or sarcastic. “My boobs are not appropriate for your innocent niece’s tenth birthday party.”

“If you say so.” He’s distracted by his phone. I can’t help but peek at the screen. My eyes zero in on an open text conversation with Kyla.

“So, how was your hangout the other night with Kyla?” I ask, trying to make my voice as casual, sweet, and Disney princess–like as possible. “Was she as amazing as you remember?”

He pauses, his brow raised, evidently perplexed. “How’d you know I met up with Kyla?”

“Scotty told me.”

“I see.” He tucks his phone back in his pocket. “It was good to catch up with her. We might do drinks or something in the future.”

This news doesn’t sit right with my spirit, so I take cover behind the heavy velvet dressing room curtain, where it’s safe.

“What are you up to tonight?” he asks.

“Oh, uh, I have plans actually,” I tell him, sweating as I stumble over the inner layer of this godforsaken gown.

It took a full day before Daniel responded to my enthusiastic, all-caps-lock DM about being free on Friday. Crystal and Mel had to talk me off the ledge multiple times. I thought for sure I’d scared him off.

Trevor clears his throat. “You have plans?”

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