Page 16 of Say Yes to the Nemesis
She narrows her eyes. “Agnes Glenn is a women’s college. Emory’s a giant university. The two don’t exactly compete in the same arenas. But if it helps, you still look like every frat boy who peaked senior year.”
I arch a brow. “And you look like someone playing dress-up in their mom’s coats.”
Wren rolls her eyes and stands, fingers slipping into the belt of her trench coat. Then she opens it.
My eyes widen.
She’s wearing a dress. No, she’s wearing a pink crop top and a fitted black leather skirt. The thing barely covers her ass.
She’s paired that with white tights. Black heels. And this dainty little black choker around her neck. It’s like she wants people to stare at her.
She’s still Wren. Same stubborn jaw. Same impossible eyes. But the way she walks now… it’s like she’s finally realized everyone’s watching. And she doesn’t hate it.
Wren tosses her copper hair over her shoulder in a fiery wave and shoots me a glare.
“I’m going to the bar,” she declares.
I watch her walk away, my jaw tightening. What’s going on? Wren’s always so meek and shy. With everybody except me, she’s a quiet type with her nose forever in a book.
One guy lets his eyes follow her ass as she passes. Another nudges his buddy and grins, both of them leering at her. Actually, scratch that. Every single guy in the pub is staring at her, and she’s doing absolutely nothing to stop them.
I glance at Jay. He hasn’t even noticed she left the table. He’s listening to Calla tell a story, completely absorbed, stroking her arm like the lovesick puppy he is.
I was hoping he’d notice. That he’d step in, say something, tell her to throw a jacket back on. But nope.
Looks like I’ll have to take control of the situation.
I usually don’t follow Wren to the bar.
But then again, she usually isn’t dressed like this.
Actually, now that I think about it, I’ve never seen her wear a dress. Never seen her show off her legs like this. Not since I was in college, going on lake trips with the rest of the crew. She would tag along and wear a bikini that I made sure to never, ever study. This is very different from those days, because she’s filled out since then, grown into her body.
This?
This is new.
And it’s going to be a problem.
I turn around and stare a hole into Wren’s curtain of hair.
She ignores me at first, accepting a glass of cider from the bartender. But when I don’t move, she sighs and finally turns toward me.
“What, you gonna stand there all night?”
I fold my arms across my chest. “I’ll stand wherever I need to if it keeps you from making a terrible mistake. Those guys weren’t interested in hearing about Greek mythology, Wren.They were only checking you out because of that outrageous outfit.”
Her eyes drop to her dress, and she feigns surprise. “What, this old thing? Golly, mister, thank you for saving me from those horrible men.”
The sarcasm isn’t lost on me. A muscle ticks in my jaw.
I swear, ninety-five percent of the time when I’m looking at Wren, I’m glaring at her so hard that she’d be incinerated if I had superpowers.
“Wren, you can’t just dress like that and hang out here. You look like some fucked-upAlice in Wonderlandsex doll. I can’t in good conscience…”
She cuts me off. “You’re not my big brother. You’re just some dumb jock who peaked in college and has been chasing that high ever since.”
Her words don’t shake me.
