Uncovered Love, page 26
Kate looks up from the tablet and smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Even with whatever makeup magic she worked on her face, the dark circles, exhaustion, and heartbreak are all there.
The memory of listening to her weeping a few days ago over the letters Arik wrote her after high school has my temper at him surfacing.
Neither of them would be hurting if they would have just talked to each other without the shadows of their pasts looming over them.
But what do I know about successful relationships?
You can’t trust that organ pumping away in your chest to make the right decisions in the long run.
The heartbreak written all over Kate is another reminder of that.
She drums up some enthusiasm, and there’s a tiny spark in her eye as she comes around the counter to wrap me in a hug.
Squeezing her tight, I rub my hand down her back. Kate and I weren’t really friends growing up—that honor belonged to Arik, the douche—but she and I have gotten closer since she’s been back this summer, and I hate seeing her like this.
There’s a muffled laugh and snort, and if she’s able to find some humor in the situation, then I’ll roll with it and accept my ribbing.
Teasing, I say, “What do you think? I make this dress ten times sexier, don’t I?”
She takes a step back, and her green eyes dance a little more as she views the whole ensemble. “Your legs”—a giggle pops out—“look amazing. I wasn’t expecting the shoes either. Those are a nice touch.”
Cocking a hip and praying I don’t break the damn thing, I strike a pose and demand, “Show me off, woman. A dress like this needs to be admired by the masses. What are you waiting for?”
With an exaggerated huff, Kate rolls her eyes before leading me to the table of authors. Faces and names whizz by me, and I do my best to catch a couple, but it’s not long before they’re all a blur. I recognize some of them because Kate promoted the event all over the town paper, something that I still read daily.
“This is Olivia Carter. She writes paranormal romance,” Kate says.
Olivia extends her fingers toward me, and when we touch, electricity zips up my arm to nail me in the spine. I drop her hand after giving it the perfunctory shake.
Olivia Carter—she’s Kate’s best friend and also her employer. She and her brother came in from Phoenix for the signing and are hanging out for the next few weeks, if the news around town is accurate. The grapevine in Felt is strong enough that I’m inclined to trust it.
Maybe blondie is looking for a good time while she’s here for her friend? The better question is can I get her alone long enough to charm her into my bed? Only one way to find out.
Those thoughts get pushed back for later exploration, and I aim my most alluring grin at Olivia while saying to Kate, “We’ve met.”
“You have?”
“Yep.” Olivia shoots me a look meant to shut me up.
So naturally I say, “It was brief though. Kinda hard for a proper introduction when a book is flying at your head.”
She turns to Kate. “It was nothing. He just caught me off guard.”
Kate’s snickering as she asks, “And you threw a book at him?”
The dimple in Olivia’s cheek pops as she nibbles on the corner of a lip that begs for lush kisses. “Yep. Sure did.”
Kate dissolves into more giggles, her smile going from wooden to more natural, and even though it’s at my expense, I’ll take it.
Neither Kate nor Arik deserve what’s going on, but my hands are tied, and I can only try to be a good friend to them both.
We continue our two-person parade around the store. People have their phones out now and are snapping pictures of me with the authors, some with their fans. I get into character, sitting on laps and draping myself over the table with books around me for an impromptu photo shoot. Everyone is laughing, and someone convinces me to catwalk my way through the store for videos.
I only eat shit once, crashing against a couch, and after that everyone unanimously agrees that I should ditch the heels.
About done with the whole thing—I don’t know how women breathe or walk in these get-ups—I track down Kate.
“Hey, you got somewhere I can change?”
Glancing around the shop, she takes in the dwindling crowd before answering, “Sure, either use the back room or the second floor. The powder room is tiny, and you won’t have as much room.”
“I’ll use the storeroom—that’s where I left my change of clothes.”
“Okay, go ahead and head back. I’ll keep a lookout.”
I’m shutting the door to the storage room when I realize my first problem. I didn’t bring underwear, and I couldn’t fit briefs under the girdle, so I’m commando.
The second problem becomes apparent when I reach back for the zipper.
You know that one place between your shoulder blades that you can’t reach no matter how bad it itches? That’s right about where the zipper to this damn straitjacket is sitting. No matter how I contort myself, I can’t grab the damn thing.
Reaching under the hem of the dress, I drag the girdle off. Maybe removing twelve layers of plastic wrap from my ribs will give me more flexibility.
The small metal tab is between my fingers and my shoulder is about to pop out of its socket, but the zipper is stuck. Either I stretched this dress enough that it’s not coming down, or this is the universe’s way of getting back at me for something.
Dress rucked up around my waist, ass out in all its splendor, I’m cursing a blue streak, about to rip my way out of this eyesore, when the door behind me opens.
Thanks for the lookout, Kate.
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About the Author
A pocket-sized powerhouse, Alina lives with her personal Hunky Hero and two children in Arizona. Slathering on sunscreen and living life to its fullest she enjoys hiking, camping, fishing and rock climbing in her desert backyard.
When not hard at work on your next literary escape, you can find Alina embracing her bad-assery on Call of Duty, binge reading or baking her heart out.
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Readers Group: Happily Ever After Addicts
Alina Lane, Uncovered Love
