Page 40 of Start A War (Saint View Psychos)

I fought down the emotion. “It’s ridiculous. I hadn’t seen him in years. I’ve been missing him that entire time. But now it’s got a chokehold on me that won’t let up.”

“It’ll get easier. I promise.”

“Part of it is the way he died,” I murmured. “The police aren’t investigating. They’ve written it off as gang-related violence. But Axel wasn’t like that. We grew up with all of that around us, and he and Nash always swore they were never gonna get involved.”

Rebel turned away, busying herself with the clothes. “Come on, choose something to wear. I brought a whole heap of different dresses.” She threw them at me, one after the other, until I was half buried beneath the pile.

I hadn’t missed the abrupt conversation one-eighty.

But I let it go and held up the first dress I pulled off the top of the pile. It was a slinky red number. And about large enough for my pinky toe. “None of these are going to fit me. My left boob alone is as big as your head. You’re a toothpick next to me.”

Rebel glanced over at me. “You have a point. I’d give anything for your curves.”

“I’d give anything to be a size two.”

Rebel shook her head. “Women, man. We really are our own worst enemies. How about we both just say we’re smoking hot?”

I smiled. “Deal. But I still can’t wear your clothes. No amount of body positivity is going to fit me into your dress.”

“So you’re going to come?”

I guessed I was. “Yes, but I’m going to have to find something in my own wardrobe.” I stood and tugged it open, eyeing the racks of clothing with a critical eye.

Rebel came up behind me and let out a low whistle. “It’s like a clothing store in here.” She stepped inside the walk-in closet and ran a hand along the multitude of dresses, pants, and tops I had hanging inside. “A really boring clothing store that my nanna probably wouldn’t even shop in, but a clothing store nonetheless.”

“Hey!”

She shot me a look. “Your ball gown the other night was smoking. You had killer cleavage. Where the hell are all the dresses like that?”

I bit my lip. “My fiancé bought me that dress. It’s not something I would have chosen for myself. I tend to keep my outfits more conservative.”

“There’s conservative, and then there’s boring. I hate to break it to you, babe, but your clothes? They’re way too dull for what we’re doing.”

I groaned, flopping back down on the couch. “See? I don’t belong there. Better I just stay home.”

But Rebel took a black dress from the back of the closet, eyeing it carefully. “Are you sentimentally attached to this dress?”

I shook my head. “I don’t even know when I bought that. I’m not sure I’ve ever worn it.”

“Great. Got a pair of scissors?”

“Oh my God, why?” But even as I said it, I got up and crossed the room to my writing desk pushed against the living room wall. From the top drawer, I pulled a pair of stainless-steel scissors.

Rebel attacked the dress with a disturbing amount of glee. When she was done, she tossed it in my direction. “Put it on.”

I went into the closet and shrugged off my cardigan and sweats and shimmered into the formfitting dress.

It now barely covered my ass and showed off more cleavage than even the blue dress had. Rebel cheered and clapped, but when I looked in the mirror, my eyes bulged. “I can’t wear this! You can practically see my underwear!”

“Wear a cute pair and flash ’em on purpose.”

I stared at her. “Nobody wants to see my flabby behind! It’s not cute and pert like yours.”

She rolled her eyes. “You have booty, and it’s the sorta booty women pay money for. You’d be surprised who’ll want to see it. But you’re being overdramatic anyway. I can’t see your underwear and I’ll probably be the shortest person there. Plus, this will be modest compared to what other people are wearing.”

A prickly heat spread across my skin while I watched my reflection. Despite the length of the skirt being about five inches less than I was comfortable with, I didn’t dislike my appearance. My boobs looked great, thanks to the way the dress cinched beneath them. The bar would be dark. Perhaps no one would notice the cellulite on my thighs.

“Add a killer pair of heels, some hair and makeup, and we can be on our way.”

---