Page 51 of Lease to Love

Ayo definitely didn't matter.

So why was I standing here worrying about what Roman Sterling might think when he saw my face?

I groaned and rubbed both hands over my face.

"Girl, open the damn bag."

I crossed the room before I could change my mind, and used what my therapist called my activation key. My go-to phrase to force myself to do something my brain had convinced me was dangerous.

"Fuck it, we ball."

The zipper came down with a soft metallic sound… And then I forgot how to breathe.

"Oh..."

The dress was gorgeous.

Not cute. Not pretty.

Gorgeous.

The silk caught the bedroom light with every tiny movement, rich and fluid, the fabric falling in a way that made it look almost liquid. The colors were warm without being loud, deep enough to complement my skin instead of competing with it, and the pattern was elegant without feeling fussy. The cut was unmistakably me. Feminine. Sophisticated. A little dramatic. Something I could have designed myself.

I reached out and touched it.

Silk. He hadn’t been kidding about the silk.

I owned a boutique. I knew fabrics. I knew quality. I knew what things cost.

This dress cost more than two months of my rent.

I slowly looked up at it in my reflection.

"Girl, who the hell are you?"

The dress answered by continuing to look expensive.

I lifted it carefully from the bag and held it against my body, turning slightly toward the mirror. It was perfect. Not just my size. My style. The neckline, the waist, the way the skirt would fall over my hips—it was like somebody had taken the inside of my own head and turned it into clothing.

And that was somehow more unsettling than if he'd gotten it completely wrong.

Had he been paying attention?

Or was he taking this fake boyfriend thing much more seriously than I expected?

I thought about the way he'd looked at me the last time we'd been standing this close. The way he'd taken my hand and kissed it like the gesture belonged there. Like it was natural. Like I was natural in his hands.

My stomach fluttered.

I looked down at the dress.

Then at my freckles.

"Yeah," I muttered. "We're covering those."

I did my makeup with the focus of a woman preparing for battle.

Foundation. Concealer. Powder.