Chapter Fourteen

One of those Christmasy songs played in Alice's car as we sped down the highway the next day. We both sang along, out of tune, giggling. Alice's fingers were smudged with traces of dark paint as she drummed them on the steering wheel.

Miranda had called the day before and with a still groggy voice suggested we go to a club in a few days, just to dance. No more booze. "I need to dance it out of my system," she said.

Alice was ecstatic. She said she had nothing to wear and that we should go shopping. When she noticed my raised eyebrow she shrugged. "It's going to be fun."

I didn't want to spend money on clothes, but as Alice expertly peeled through the rows of garments, she picked out a few outfits that could potentially make me change my mind. We managed to snatch two changing rooms opposite each other.

The first outfit Alice made me try was a black leather miniskirt with a neon turtleneck. When she opened the door to her changing room, Alice was standing in a furry leopard print jacket, knee-high boots, and a slip dress.

She watched me closely as my eyes slowly slipped down her body. When I noticed she wasn't wearing a bra I paused on the faint outline of her breasts a moment longer.

"This is sexy," I said. "Maybe too sexy."

She ran her hand over her waist, her hip. I swallowed hard, my eyes glued to her palm as it glided down the fabric.

"You think so?" she asked.

"Yeah." I breathed out, making myself look away. "I think this neon color is too much for me."

I felt her gaze on my body, assessing. "You're right."

Next on my rack was a black sheer shirt and skinny jeans.

"I feel naked," I said to Alice, who stood in an oversized jean jacket, a belt hugging her waist.

This time she watched me closely, my black bra visible under the shirt. My skin prickled under her gaze as something unfamiliar flickered in her eyes.

"Yes, it leaves too little to the imagination," she said and my cheeks burned.

"Next," I said and closed the door to my changing room, as the corners of her lips went up, smirking at me.

The next was a black V-neck dress that brushed on the floor even when hung high on the hook. It had an intricate lace covering the back. When I noticed the price tag I gasped. The gown was for a ball, not a club.

As I stripped out of my jeans and shirt my hands moved to the dress. I slipped it over my head. It was definitely meant to be worn without a bra, so I pulled mine off.

I needed help. There was a small row of buttons on the back, hidden in the lace. I drew a hand across my chest and peered out, only my head sticking out of the door.

"Alice?"

She opened the door to her fitting room. Alice was wearing an outfit only she could pull off: a white midi dress that sat tight on her slim body, hugging every line, wrapping around every curve.

"If you want the attention of every man in the club on you, you should wear that," I said.

"You know I don't want that."

"I know," I said. "Please help me."

And I opened the door wider. The black fabric sat loosely around my shoulders and waist as I tried to hold the dress up. I turned around.

"I don't know what they think about when creating the dresses one can't zip without help," I said.

Alice crossed the hall and stepped into the tight space of my fitting room, closing the door behind her.

She met my eyes in the mirror as I pulled my hair over my shoulder. An unexpected tingle ran down my spine, just a few inches from her fingertips. Alice gathered the fabric, tightening it in front, forming the perfect cleavage, and fastened the first button, and the second, but before the third she paused.

I watched her in the mirror, as her eyes were drawn to my back. The lightest touch landed on the middle of my back, slowly trailing down. She was still not meeting my eye in the mirror, and I breathed out slowly, closing my eyes. All my senses focused on the spot where her warm fingertips connected with my skin.

And then she fastened the three last buttons.

"This dress is not for the club for sure," she said.

I nodded as I watched her watching me.

She shook her head lightly and opened the door, taking a step back. The dress made me feel something I hadn't felt in a long time: beautiful. I was beautiful in it. In the front, it showed just enough skin to leave anyone wondering what was hidden, and the back was like an ink painting, the threads forming a delicate pattern.

Alice moved closer and undid all the buttons down my back before she disappeared into her changing room. As I clicked my own door shut I exhaled, and closed my eyes, pressing my bare back to a cool wall.

In the end, she bought a vermillion pantsuit with a black crop top. The unease I was afraid would come between us never came.