Page 8 of With You

I’ve never really been insecure about my looks, but there’s still the odd occasion where I’ll worry that certain parts of me might be strange for others to look at. My calves are defined in a way only a dancer can be, and I try to cover them up most of the time, hence my preference for longer dresses when I have to attend more formal events. But in this dress, I just feel beautiful.

I reach around to try and pull the invisible zipper up on the back, but only make it halfway before it becomes impossible. I call out to the staff member for help but get no response.

“Are you decent?”

God, why is he still here?

“Go away, River.”

“There’s no one else here to help you. The owner and Layth are with Zena,” he says, voice slightly muffled through the curtain. “Damien’s helping the staff pick out something else for Evie, and I don’t think you want Grayson’s help, do you?”

Annoyingly, he’s right. Although we’re friends, I haven’t known Grayson long enough to be that comfortable with him.

“Just get in here, and zip this up,” I relent, hating that he’s the only option I have.

I turn to face the mirror, giving my back to River as he opens the curtain just enough so that he can slip into the enclosed space with me. His expression flashes from annoyance to something else I can’t quite decipher as he steps closer to me.

My eyes track him in the mirror as he leans back slightly to get a better view of the zipper, and then cool fingertips brush against my spine, the featherlight touch tracing down until I feel the gentle tug of the zipper as he takes hold of it.

River and I have never been this close before. I avoid him at all costs, and he does the same. But it’s hard to stop the physical reaction my body is having to the way his knuckles are pressed into my back as he gathers the fabric closer together, his fingers grazing across my exposed skin for just a few seconds as he lifts the zipper to close it fully.

He snaps the hook at the top closed with a delicate touch before he steps back. I keep my eyes trained on him in the mirror as he lifts his gaze to meet mine. Either the lighting in here has adopted a pinkish hue from reflecting off my dress and onto his face, or the impossible is happening.

River Campbell is blushing.

My mouth drops open slightly, a small sound escaping me before I can stop it, and River’s eyes dart to my mouth before he clears his throat, his expression switching in an instant. Of course, I was wrong. He’s not blushing, he’s pissed off. His lips press into a flat line as a crease forms between his eyebrows, and he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world than here.

“You can leave now,” I tell him, saving us both from any further embarrassment that might occur from prolonging this interaction.

“You’re welcome,” he says sarcastically before he nudges the curtain to the side again and leaves.

My hands clench into fists at my sides, anger running through me at the way I let him get so under my skin whenever I’m trying to enjoy something. I take a few calming breaths before I push through the curtain and step out into the room. Zena and Evie are already out, complimenting each other on their choices. The two of them look stunning.

The pink gown she’s wearing perfectly complements Zena’s light brown skin, accentuating her hips, and somehow making her look five inches taller than her actual height of five foot four. She’ll more than likely wear a short pair of heels to the dinner, and I can already imagine how pretty she’ll look on the day. I glance over to Layth, and he practically has hearts in his eyes as he looks at her. I don’t think he’d even realise if Evie and I disappeared right in front of him.

Evie’s dress hugs her torso before flowing out at the waist, the long sleeves an unusual choice for most, but she somehow manages to pull it off. Evie has a knack for making any outfit look like she’s just pulled it off a runway, and if she had any interest in it, I’m sure she could become a model. Her fair skin, light brown hair, green eyes, and the genetics of two people who could easily have worked as models but instead chose a quieter life make Evie one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen in my life.

I shift my gaze toward Damien, who smiles appreciatively at Evie, shooting her a thumbs up as she grins at him. My eyes drift to Grayson, who’s standing right next to him, and there’s an expression on his face that I can’t quite read as his gaze shifts from Evie to Zena. River is staring down at his phone, and I don’t know why I even bothered to look at him.

I compliment both of my friends, already thinking about what jewellery I can pull from my collection that will elevate our looks.

“I’m leaving,” River says abruptly, tucking his phone into his pocket as he stands. “My mother will settle the bill, so pick whatever you want and let the owner know.”

River casts one last glance at me, clenching his jaw in a way that makes its outline even sharper than usual. He turns on his heel and leaves without another word. Evie and Zena both call out thanks as he steps onto the street, the door closing behind him. I’ll give River one thing. He’s extremely talented at making the nicest of gestures seem like a curse.

Chapter 4

River

I cannot get the image of Amelie in that dress out of my head.

I stare at the ceiling as I twirl the queen chess piece that my grandmother gave me when I was younger between my fingers. She’s the one who taught me to play chess, and it’s become a habit to fiddle with it whenever I’m overthinking something. I run my finger over the edges, wondering why I even bothered to go to Amelie in the first place.

She could have waited until someone else was free, but my mother raised me better than that. I’ve spent so much time backstage with her during fashion shows that it’s an almost natural response to help someone with their outfit when needed. I also had to pay for that damn dress because the idea of Damien—or heaven forbid, Grayson—buying it infuriated me for reasons I can’t explain.

A huff of annoyance escapes me as I toss and turn in my bed, sleep evading me no matter how hard I try. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is her staring into my soul through the mirror, deep brown eyes piercing into mine.

Amelie Devereaux, the permanent thorn in my side, has grown another one to prick me with.