Page 5 of The Good Girl Next Door

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What are you doing, Prudence?

My inner voice is again asking me the pertinent question I’ve been ignoring since I opened my closet and pulled out the dress. Jeans and T-shirts. Blouses and button-ups. I have more cardigans than I know what to do with. Dresses though? I have a few but I rarely wear them because of the unwanted attention they tend to attract. Even when I pair them with a light sweater I can’t help but feel eyes on me. Guys come up to me, penning me in with their bodies as they ask me a series of flimsy questions until finally asking for my number. A date.

No, no, no, no,no.

But tonight’s different. And as I admire the dress in my mirror—a pale terracotta color with a dainty, floral pattern and soft v-neckline—a frisson of excitement shoots through me. Although the dress is modest like the rest of my wardrobe, I’m interested to see if it’s enough to attract Silas’s attention. If I make him burn in the same way.

I might be playing with fire. I might get scorched. But Silas lit a flame inside me that I can’t smother.

I tie the thin belt around my waist into a bow and turn to see myself from different angles as the short, frilly sleeves flutter. I like it, but will he?

I’ve never had the urge to dress up for anyone, but am I really dressing up? I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing because this is all new to me. It’s so silly, but I can’t help myself. I haven’t been acting like myself from the moment Silas burst into my life. Logic and common sense flew out the window the moment I laid eyes on the hulking hockey player.

I gust out a sigh before collapsing onto my bed. It’s times like these when I wish Mom was still here. She was my guiding light, but it’s been so long it’s only flickering now. I miss her so much.

I curl against my pillow as I glance at the photo of us on my nightstand, remembering that day at the beach. When I close my eyes I can still feel the sea spray against my skin. Smell the coconut lotion on her skin.

At least I have my friends. We still plan to hold our book club meetings over video chat this summer. It’s not theofficialbook club. We’ve broken away from the main group to form our own little faction that reads romance that’s spicier than the Thai food I ordered for dinner.

I couldn’t have found a better pack. It’s too bad we didn’t find each other until we were all upperclassmen. Better late than never, I suppose. But I have a feeling we’re not going to drift apart like my high school friends. Friends who read smut together, stay together.

“Honey?” my father calls through the door, jerking me out of my reverie. “Silas is here.”

“Okay,” I respond, my voice a little huskier than usual. “Be down soon.”

I roll off the bed and brush my palms against the wrinkles in my dress. It does nothing to smooth them out, but I’m guessing Silas will be focused on what’s underneath the thin fabric.

Nerves strangle my lungs when I grab the door handle, pausing for a brief moment before opening it. There hasn’t been a single test or paper that has made me this anxious.

My father’s voice booms from the kitchen as a deep laugh rumbles toward me, hitting me square in my chest and stopping me halfway down the stairs. Their conversation is indecipherable, but I feel Silas’s voice all over my body.

It takes a few minutes to slow my pulse before I continue toward the kitchen. I thought I was nervous upstairs, but knowing I’m seconds away from seeing Silas—in my house—makes me feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. As though I’m no longer in control and my body is moving on its own accord.

But when I round the corner and see Silas, I’m sucked right back inside myself. I feel itallas he stops mid-sentence and his gaze lands on me.God,he’s beautiful. I’m sure he’d hate it if I called him that but that’s the only word I can think of right now that can describe him.

He’sbig. Bigger than my dad. And that says a lot given he’s an ex-NHL player. Dark jeans wrap around his thick thighs, and I can see every muscle in his chest underneath that gray T-shirt. Abs too, I think.Yikes.

I lean against the archway to steady myself but I feel so awkward. Arms folded beneath my chest?No.Hands at my sides?No!I brush myself off yet again as I push away from the wall, hands clasped in front of me as I feel the full force of Silas’s attention bear down on me.

“Prudence,” my dad says, turning around to greet me. I glance at him, swallowing once before my eyes flick to Silas’s. A smirk or a smile—I can’t tell at this distance—grows on hisbeautifulface. He’s all hard edges, dark features, and muscles galore—the kind of man that has lines of women following him.

And look at me. I’m in lock-step with the rest of them. Of course.

“This is Silas,” my dad says, as though I need the introduction.

Silas doesn’t wait for a response—he moves. He closes the gap between us in no time as I feel a rush of air sweep over me, redolent of his scent. It’s like a slap in the face that wakes up my entire body.

Silas offers his hand. “Nice to meet you, Prudence.”

That voice. It sets off thunderous feelings throughout my body. And that smile? Game over. I hate it, but I’m putty in this man’s hands. It’s a good thing that we’ll hardly see each other. I only rarely visit my dad in his office and never go to games.

If we actually had to interact on a regular basis, I’m not sure what I’d find myself doing. Silas turns my rational brain off and turns everything else on.

“Prudence,” Silas whispers in a low, deep tone only I can hear. “Are you afraid to shake my hand?”

Maybe.

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