Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
The top was held up by thin spaghetti straps. The neckline dipped just enough to be a little flirty without making me worry about anything, er, popping out. The silky fabric hugged my waist in all the right places, giving me an hourglass shape I hadn’t even been aware of. Probably it didn’t exist in less flattering clothes.
The sleeves were small, and hung teasingly off my shoulders, fluttering when I walked. They didn’t cover much, but they made me feel pretty and feminine.
But the high slit was more femme fatale than feminine. Almost the whole length of my leg slipped out when I walked, but when I stood still, my legs together, the two sides of the fabric came together. That pleased me, because I didn’t want to meet Aaron’s grandparents with my leg sticking out, but I couldn’t help loving how the fabric parted when I moved.
Evidently, Aaron liked that too, because he didn’t even blink as I walked toward him. “You look… I don’t even have the words for it.” He shook his head, as if trying to snap himself out of it. “Let’s just say that I want to invent a time machine so that I can have you at my side at every single family event I’ve ever been to.”
I laughed softly. “Weren’t you seven when you joined the family? That’s a little young to bring a date.”
“I don’t care,” Aaron said, the look on his face sending delicious shivers up my spine. Then he shook his head again, to clear it. “I’m so glad you’re going to be on my arm tonight, but I also want you to have a nice time. A woman who looks like you do deserves an amazing evening out.”
He reached my side and took my hand, squeezing it. “If at any time my family gets to be too much, just squeeze my hand like this, okay? It’s really important to me that you have a nice evening.”
“I’m sure I will.”
“I know I will,” he said, his eyes on the scooped neckline of my dress. “But I’m serious. If you’re tired, or nervous, or if anyone’s questions make you nervous, or if Cousin Dan flirts with you, just squeeze my hand.” He frowned slightly. “Especially if Cousin Dan flirts with you.”
I laughed lightly and kept hold of his hand. I hoped I enjoyed the evening, because I sensed he’d feel bad if I didn’t. But I also hoped I enjoyed it for my sake, too. We were in a rich, fancy condo, and heading to an even richer, fancier reception. My dress made me feel like a princess, and dammit, I wanted to have a magical evening.
Soon, we’d be back at the house. Back to homework and tests and stress. And back to two men who had both made me feel crappy the last time we’d talked. And yes, after a life spent in and out of various foster homes, I was probably more sensitive to rejection than most, but still, it stung. At the movie night with Cody and then babysitting with Diego, I’d been having fun, and I’d thought they had been, too. Except then it ended badly.
But I was here tonight with a gorgeous and kind man, and I was determined to enjoy the hell out of it.
22
AARON
“This is Mia,” I said, again and again. “She goes to my school. She’s studying digital communications. Yes, her dress is gorgeous.” I said those things over and over as we talked to my siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins.
I felt pride that she was here with me every time someone commented on her dress. It fit her like a second skin and took her from beautiful to holy shit, she’s fucking gorgeous.
And she was here with me.
Part of the reason that made me so happy was that I genuinely liked her. And I’d meant what I said about wanting her to have a good time tonight. But I also couldn’t help noticing the way my family looked at me differently. Like I was no longer just the youngest sibling. Just the college kid. Just the last one to get adopted. With Mia accompanying me, it was like they viewed me differently. Except for Cousin Dan. He couldn’t keep his eyes off my date, and I quickly steered her away.
“Your dress is like a Rorschach test,” I said as we went to get something to drink.
“A what?” She smiled up at me, but with those sexy high heels, she didn’t have to tilt her head as far as usual. “Is that a good thing?”
I laughed. “It’s that ink blot test, where everyone looks at it and sees a different shape. Everyone who’s commented on your dress tonight has called it a different color. Aunt Miranda said it was a muted garnet, whatever that means. And Jason called it cinnamon.”