Page 42 of Sugar
I roll my eyes, grinning despite myself, and slip out of my clothes as I eye the dozen dresses hung up on a built-in rack. My fingers tremble as I work to unbutton my pants, and I frown. I’m more anxious than I thought I’d be.
Down to my bra and underwear, I avoid looking in the mirror as I pull the first dress off the hanger and shuffle into it. It’s . . . pretty, with a sweetheart neckline and beaded crystals beneath the bust. It’s loose around my torso and long enough to wear in heels, with the white satin pooling around my feet. Definitely not something I would ever pick for myself, but I’m relieved that it works.
I step out of the stall and hold my arms out for the girls to see. Olivia eyes it up and down as Layla tilts her head. “It’s nice,” she says.
“Kind of looks like a prom dress,” Olivia notes.
I laugh. “I can name at least five girls from high school who bought their prom dressesfroma bridal store.”
Layla snickers, taking another sip of champagne. “It’s not bad,” she declares. “But let’s see what else is in there.”
The next dress is tight—too tight. My eyes slip down to where the cotton stretches tight around my middle, and then I’m scrambling to rip the whole thing off. By the time I get my head and arms through the top of the third dress, frustration bubbles in my blood. This is all so stupid, and I never should have let Layla or Olivia come with me?—
I catch a glance at myself in the mirror, and . . .
Wow. It’s a cream-colored dress of lace and tulle with a plunging neckline and sheer flutter sleeves. Below the bust, the dress flows out into a gorgeous skirt with ivory-embroidered flowers. The back of it dips halfway down my spine.
It fits like a dream.
Emotion pulls a quick breath into my lungs. I like it way more than I should.
Swallowing, I tamp down my feelings and open the stall door, stepping out for Layla and Olivia to see. Their expressions are proof enough.
“That’s the dress,” Olivia says, softly.
“No question,” Layla agrees.
“Yeah?” I ask, suddenly swirling in a jumbled mess of feelings. I move to the single-step platform, rising to stand in front of three mirrors to see the dress from all angles. It’s . . . gorgeous.
“That’s definitely the dress,” Olivia says again.
“I think so too.” I smile wide as I turn back around to face them, but my foot slips off the edge of the step. My hand flies protectively to my stomach as I stumble to regain control, and Layla catches the movement. Her brow furrows as her gaze narrows in on my palm covering my navel. “Are you hurt?” she asks.
I drop my hand, turning away from her to look back at myself in the mirror. “No!” I exclaim, a little loudly. “Totally fine. Just . . . lost my balance.”
I can’t help but watch her reaction in the mirror as fear overcomes me. She tilts her head, looking down at the glass of champagne in her hand. And then her eyes rise back to mine.
I shake my head almost imperceptibly.
Her eyes widen.
“Do you have shoes yet?” Olivia asks, completely oblivious.
I force a smile. “No, but I’m thinking something si?—”
“Simple,” she finishes for me, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “I think I saw a pair here that would match perfectly. I’ll go get them so we can try!” Olivia sets her glass down and practically skips out of the dressing room.
I keep my gaze trained on the dress in the mirror.
Layla shifts in her seat. “Ava?—”
“Olivia doesn’t know my shoe size!” I abruptly announce. “I’m going to go help her.”
I practically run from the room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
KASEY
