Page 23 of The Proposal
“What are you wearing tonight?” she asks, getting back into Brock’s T-shirt.
I shrug. “I don’t know. Want to pick something for me? I only brought two dresses, so don’t be disappointed at the lack of options.”
“That’s okay. I brought backups you can use if you need them.”
Of course, you did.
Ella disappears into the cavernous walk-in closet just off the bathroom. She shouts a few things, but none are clear enough to discern, so I ignore her. Instead, I grab a towel and climb out of the water.
Her words echo through my head.“It’s okay just to have a good time with someone.”
That sounds amazing.
“I want to do something big for my birthday. Something fun. Something wild that I’ll remember forever.”
I smile, pulling my towel tighter.
“This one,” Ella says, holding up the silver dress and heels. “You don’t even have to try it on. I know this will be fire on you, and it’s perfect for your birthday.”
The image of my silver heels dangling from Renn’s fingers flashes through my mind.“These are fucking hot.”
I grin, taking them from her. It’s kismet. “This is it, then. Thank you.”
She scoops up her dresses, blows me a kiss, and closes the door softly behind her.
“There is a difference between flings, feelings, and forever.”
I set the heels down and finish drying myself.
Ella’s words percolate through my brain. She’s right—there is a difference between a good time, loving someone, and committing to another person forever. And if I’m going to start looking for a forever candidate, I better get all the good time out of my system while I can.
I drop my towel next to the sink and look at myself in the mirror. A flush of excitement pinks my cheeks and has the golds popping out in my irises.
“Could I just have a good time with Renn as a one-time thing? Somethingexplosive,and then … we’re done? Everything would be fine?”
I stare at my reflection in the foggy glass.
“Stop overthinking this and get dressed,” I say, heading into the closet for my lingerie. “I have a birthday to celebrate.”
CHAPTER6
Renn
Iadjust my collar in the mirror.
“Did they send black or charcoal?” Astrid, my personal assistant, asks. “I put an emphasis on black, but the salesgirl was distracted the entire phone call. I have a note to call the manager on Monday morning.”
“Over clothes?”
“Technically, over customer service. Wouldn’t you want someone to tell you if I treated them like crap?”
I step back and check out my handiwork.Not bad. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Yeah,maybe. I hope they’d consider that you might just be having a bad day.”
I hear Brock yell at Blakely to see if she’s ready, and then her faint giggle in reply. The sound is bright and happy. Just like her.Dammit.
