Page 44 of On a Fault Line

I think he has a migraine forming.

We all follow along up the stairs, as Collins takes up the rear. I can feel his eyes on me as I ascend. My breath catches in my lungs remembering the way his lips felt on my flesh just hours ago. I miss the way he tasted and how his hands roamed over my curves with reverence, yet desire.

When I get to the top, I’m already flushed and a bit out of breath. Maybe spending most of the last week in Collins’s bed has made my muscles experience some atrophy. Granted, what we were partaking in wasveryphysical.

“Oh, this would look amazing on you,” Angie says, pointing to a black sheer dress. “Here, let’s start a pile. There’s a dressing room up here, and we can all have fun trying some things on.”

I find my size and hand the garment to the worker, who is being very helpful and accommodating. I know we are being a little loud, but she doesn’t seem to mind at all. If anything, she’s encouraging it.

After we’ve gone through the entire collection, we make our way back to the dressing room area. Champagne bottles are popped and chocolate-covered strawberries are served.

“Drink mine,” Claire says with an adorable pout. She rubs her hands over her belly. “This baby doesn’t need any encouragement to be bubbly, so drink mine for me.”

“Aww, you can feel movement?”

“All the time now.”

We go into our assigned dressing rooms and start the long process of narrowing down the keepers. The nice thing about this shop is that many of the items can be worn as an actual outfit, and not just lingerie. The quality seems top-notch while still maintaining some of the comfort.

I honestly don’t know why anyone protested outside the doors. There’s nothing here that is so out of place that it isn’t socially acceptable.

After each round, we meet at the sofa and give each other an opinion of the ensemble.

“Oh, wow, Penny. That outfit will sure get some attention,” Claire says, admiring my sleek, silver sheath dress.

I turn in the mirror, feeling Collins’s attentive eyes on me. I catch his reflection, watching how fast he averts his gaze. Maybe this whole experience can turn out to be a little fun.

The worker puts some upbeat songs on the sound system, refills our flutes of bubbly, and helps haul away any outfits we do not want. I feel lightweight and a bit dizzy—yet good.

Too good.

I stumble into my dressing room, switching outfits to something more risqué. I slip the sheer babydoll style shirt over my head, followed by a pair of lace booty shorts. The color is sea-glass green just like the skirt I arrived in today.

There’s something about this color that is making me feel confident.

Pulling my hair up, I twist it into a messy high bun using the band that I had wrapped around my wrist. A few blonde strands fall out around the sides of my face. I spin in my personal mirror, not knowing whether or not to head out into the viewing area.

“Pen? You done yet?” Angie asks.

I open my door, peeking out to find the girls eagerly waiting.

“Let’s see,” Claire says with a whine. “C’mon.”

Opening the door more, I step out.

“Holy cannoli,” Angie says with wide eyes. “Well, that’s the outfit. The color is great.”

I turn again in the mirror, catching Collins’s livid expression. What’s his problem? Why does he care?

There are no men around to witness me. It’s literally just us girls.

The dude just needs a snack.

I quietly move back into my dressing room.

“We are going to hit up the restroom,” Angie says quietly from the other side of the door. “I’m going to go with Claire to see if she needs any help.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

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