Page 25 of I Wish I Would've Warned You

“Seriously, bitch?” Taylor yells, glaring at me from the balcony. “You didn’t hear me calling you?”

“I…” I have no words.

She walks toward me, grabbing my hands and pulling me to my feet.

“We’ll only stay for a few hours,” she says, “and it’s good to make friends around here. I’m sure there are plenty of other lames who love to sit in their room and write just dying to meet someone like you.”

I hold back a laugh. “Fine. I’ll just grab my purse and follow you out.”

“You mean, after you also change clothes, right?”

“No, this is—” I wave over my jeans and tank top “—good enough for a bonfire.”

“Um, no the hell it isn’t.” She shakes her head. “Let me confirm just in case you think I’m kidding.”

She grabs my hand and pulls me out the door and into the hallway. Cole’s door is wide open, exposing him mid-painting with the canvas hanging on his wall.

“Be honest, Cole.” Taylor gestures toward me like I’m Exhibit A. “Tell your friend here that this outfit won’t work at Beach Fest.”

Cole glances toward us, and his gaze moves over me—slow and unapologetic.

“Your outfit’s fine,” he says, voice low.

“Whatever.” Taylor scoffs and pulls me into my room. “Take it from me. The people around here are a bit—oh, I don’t know—high on themselves? You’ll stick out instantly in that. And... are you opposed to eye shadow? You have the most beautiful eyes.”

“I thought this was just a bonfire and a party.”

“Yeah, okay. Where are your clothes?”

“In the closet.”

She opens it, and I try not to stare too hard at the sight of everything hung up on actual hangers for the first time in years.

The housekeeper didn’t give me a chance to explain that she could simply stack the boxes in a corner. She ironed every item and hung them up by style and color code, like they all belonged.

“You have tons of nice dresses, so let’s see...” She pulls out a vintage short-sleeve blue dress—one my mom stole from Chanel years ago. “Um, hello? This!”

“It still has the tag on it.”

“Do you plan on taking it back or something?”

“I’m just holding onto it, just in case we get charged years down the line…”

“Funny.” She rips off the tag and tosses the dress to me. “That, plus sandals, will be perfect. We’ll have our shoes off most of the time anyway. Oh, and do you have any designer bags?”

“My mom does.”

“I’ll go ask to borrow one, then.” She’s already halfway out the door. “Be dressed when I come back so I can help you with your hair and makeup.”

She disappears without another word, and I slip off my clothes, pulling the dress over my head. The fabric falls like water over my skin. Cool. Soft. A little dangerous.

I turn to the full-length mirror and smooth the hem—just as Cole appears behind me in the reflection.

His mouth parts slightly, but he just stares.

Not in a passing glance kind of way. He really looks at me. Like I’ve caught him completely off guard.

And I stare right back—equally breathless, equally frozen.

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