Page 78 of Screw it Up

“I mean, it’s not an issue for the farm, but if you want to ride, you should have pants—for protection, otherwise you’ll likely hurt your legs.” She winces. “I have a few spares.”

I wrinkle my nose. “I doubt they’d fit me.”

Violet shrugs. “Actually, we’re not such a different size overall, and the material is stretchy. It should be fine.”

I sincerely doubt it, but I let her lead me to her room after breakfast anyway.

The walk-in closet is huge, but between her clothes and Rhys’s extensive collection of suits and shoes, it’s filled to the brim. I’m surprised she finds what she’s looking for immediately.

I eye the pants dubiously, struggling to remember the last time I wore any that didn’t make me look like a wannabe porn star.

“Go ahead, feel free to try it on in the bathroom.”

While I’ve been in her room a couple of times, I’ve never stepped into her bathroom.

I was highly impressed with mine, but this one is next level. I shake my head, the novelty of the displays of wealth never wearing off. What does that shower do, take people into space? It looks like it might.

I remove my boots to try the riding pants, and to my astonishment, I somehow manage to slide them past my hips. It’s not even uncomfortable.

“What the hell?”

I glance at myself in the mirror on the bathroom wall.

I need to know the brand of these pants and I need ten pairs of them. Twenty. Every color available.

“So, do they fit?” Violet asks.

“Like a fucking glove. It’s amazing, Vi. I mean, no offense, but my ass and yours should definitely not fit in the same pants.”

“Don’t I know it.” She chortles. “I was wearing slightly baggier stuff the last couple of years, so I figured it’d be perfect for you. You can keep them—they do nothing for my ass.”

Mine looks awesome, without seeming too lewd. The material is thick and well cut, so I don’t get the camel toe that I associate with tight pants.

“I can buy them from you,” I offer, tired of being a charity case.

“They’reused pants, Sarah. I was going to donate them. Take them.”

I sigh, coming out of the bathroom. I really need pants, so I nod. “Okay, but I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing.” She hands me a polo shirt similar to hers, in dark red.

Violet’s busty, so I’m less surprised to see the top fits perfectly.

“Bex just texted. She’s pulling up. Ready?”

A last glance in the mirror shows a person I don’t recognize; the kind of girl whowouldgo horse riding at a friend’s stable like it’s no big deal. Funny what overpriced clothes can do to a girl.

“Coming!”

34

SARAH

Igroan out loud as Violet climbs in the back of a familiar dark car. Seriously?

I told myself I need to stay away from Marius—refuse to accept lifts from him, give him a wide berth, and overall pretend we’re exactly what we are: perfect strangers.

But how the hell can I do that when he won’t stay away fromme?

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