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“Selection?” I ask, then realize he still hasn’t shaken my hand. Instead, he looks at me like I stepped out of an alien spaceship. A hint of amusement flickers in his hazel eyes.
I retreat my hand and clear my throat.
“You can’t shake my hand in front of my family.”
“Of course not,” I say. “Didn’t think we’d have to pretend here in front of Gigi.”
“Gigi?”
“The salesperson.”
“Thought her name was Lauren.”
I’m pleasantly surprised that he remembers the salesperson's name, but annoyed that he paid attention to Gigi.
“Right. I was calling her Gigi in my head because she’s so beautiful. Reminds me of Gigi Hadid,” I say, injecting some energy into my voice so I won’t sound like a jealous lunatic.
“I guess.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “She’s up to speed, so I asked her to put some clothes aside for our upcoming trip.”
I suck in a breath. “How does she know my size?”
His gaze slides down my body like a lazy caress. “I guessed.”
A wave of embarrassment flushes my cheeks. Is that good or bad? The way he’s looking at me makes me feel… slightly exposed. “How about my style? Or preferences? Some fabrics are … itchy.” I clear my throat.
"If something's itchy, I advise you to take it off and put it aside. You'll have plenty of options."
“Thanks.” Shame balloons inside me as I process what I said. This guy’s trying to help me, and I said fabrics may be itchy? I doubt they even sell clothes made of anything less than high-quality fabric in this place. Why did I say that? I thread my fingers into each other, fidgeting. “I’m sorry. I’m nervous.”
“Why?”
"Because I'm second-guessing everything. Seeing Gigi doesn't help. She's perfect, and so are you. Your family will never believe you're with me and not with someone like her," I blurt. A second later, regret stabs at me. I shouldn't give him a guided tour of all my insecurities, but then again, he's not a potential boyfriend.
He erases the gap between us. “You don’t have any filter.”
“No.” God, is he already having buyer’s remorse? Knots twist inside my stomach.
“Take a deep breath.”
I follow his command, and even though he didn’t tell me to close my eyes, I do it anyway. It’s easier to breathe without looking at him. I inhale deeply, hold it for a few seconds, and let it out slowly.
I’ve got this… right? If I can’t deal with shopping with someone I’ve agreed to be with on a platonic basis, how can I be ready to take it further in the future with a guy who’s interested in me?
4
Grey
“And here’s our next pick,” Lauren announces, gesturing in Sylvie’s direction.
The previous outfits have all elevated my heart rate. Now, Sylvie steps out of the fitting room wearing a burgundy cocktail dress, the silky fabric outlining her body without hugging it too tightly.
She sashays to me, and then I see it—a slit on the right side shows her shapely leg. I shift in the tufted velvety chair. The dress caresses her when she moves, and I have never been more jealous of a non-living thing.
I draw in a breath and wonder what it would be like to touch her, to help her unzip, slam her against the wall, and kiss her. A stir of lust unravels inside me. Fuck. This isn’t helpful.
“Does this dress make me look bad?” she asks, chewing her lip.
I blink. “What?”
