23. Mila #5
“Fine.” I grinned and looked around for a dressing room. “I hope it looks good,” I said as I walked toward the back of the store.
“It will look great, and if it doesn’t, there are plenty more dresses to try on.”
“I know,” I said, though I knew I would feel disappointed if the dress in my hands didn’t look good; I was already drawn to it. It was intricate and pretty, and I loved the way it looked. I just hoped that it would look good on me.
I walked into the dressing room and pulled the curtain, hanging the dress carefully before setting my bag down.
I started to take off my clothes, staring at myself in the mirror as I did so.
I paused and stared at my face up close.
I wasn’t sure what it was about dressing room mirrors, but they always seemed so much clearer than my mirrors at home.
I suppose it had to do with the lighting.
I stared into my brown eyes and then at my lashes, still tinged with black mascara that I hadn’t gotten off.
I had some small lines around my eyes and slightly darker bags.
I wrinkled my nose as I stared at the lines and tried not to sigh.
My cheeks looked smooth, except for a few freckles.
I shook my head at myself and then rolled my eyes at how idiotic I was to be smiling at myself in a dressing-room mirror.
I pulled my top off, my jeans down, and studied my body.
My bra looked old and funky, though I was happy with the fact that my boobs looked luscious.
I then looked at my stomach and grimaced.
There was definitely no six-pack there or even a faint glimmer of abs.
I needed to work on that. Ryker had such a perfect body, and I wanted to match it.
Maybe that would make him want me more. My eyes fell farther, to my thighs and calves, and I turned to the side to check out my ass.
It was still pretty flat, but was a bit more pert than usual, thanks to all my squats.
Overall, I was pleased with what I saw, if not ecstatic.
I shook my head at myself and then reached over to grab the dress off the hanger when I heard a deep, familiar-sounding voice, and my body started shaking. It couldn’t be, could it?
“Mila?” Ryker’s deep voice echoed through the store, and my face grew heated. How was Ryker here?
“Ryker, what are you doing here?” Lara asked, surprised. I’m sure she was wondering how he was here as well.
“Where’s Mila?” Ryker sounded annoyed.
“She’s in the changing room,” Lara said, her voice stiff. “What are you doing here?”
“I told Mila I wanted to see the dresses.”
“I thought she told you no.”
“So?” he said in an amused tone, his voice coming closer. “Mila, you there?”
I opened my mouth, but no words would come out. I was in shock.
“Mila?” His voice came closer.
“Ryker?” I squeaked out finally. “What are you doing here?”
“I texted you, and you didn’t respond,” he said accusingly from right outside my room.
“I was busy,” I said defensively.
“I figured.”
“How did you know where I was?”
“What?” Ryker said slowly.
“How did you know where I was? I didn’t tell you.”
“I shared your location.”
“What?” I frowned, not understanding him. “What does that mean?”
“I went into your phone and shared your location with my number,” he said matter-of-factly, as if there were nothing wrong with that. “I wanted to make sure I could?—”
“Spy on me!” I shouted, interrupting him. “How dare you?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were safe, and that I could find you if anything happened.” He sounded sheepish now.
“If what happened, Ryker?” I was annoyed.
“I don’t know.”
“Did you share your location with me as well?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“I didn’t think about it,” he said after a few seconds. “Sorry, I should have done that as well.”
“Yeah, sure, that’s the reason why I'm upset. Not. Ryker, you can’t just go into my phone and share my location without even asking me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his tone unreadable. I wasn’t sure if he was really sorry or just saying that.
“Sure you are.” I shook my head from inside my dressing room. “Anyway, what can I do for you, Ryker?”
“I came to see your dress choices.”
“I told you that I didn’t want to show them to you.”
“I thought that was just via text. I thought, in person, you’d be happy to show me.”
“Ryker, don’t you have work to do?”
“I always have work to do, but I wanted to make time to see you,” he said softly. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. I thought it would be romantic of me to come down and see you during the day. Don’t you girls like romantic gestures?”
“I guess.” I bit down on my lower lip. What did that mean? Why was he trying to be romantic? Was he falling for me after all?
“So, can I see you in at least one dress?”
“Fine.” I sighed. “Hold on, I’m putting one on right now.”
“I’m waiting,” he said, his tone lighter now—happy, even. I was itching to see his face and his smile, but I wasn’t about to open the curtain while I was still in my underwear.
I slipped the dress over my head and sucked my breath in to pull it down. I pressed my breasts in with one hand and continued to pull the dress down. I was praying to God that the material wouldn’t rip. That would be all that I needed.
“Mila?” Ryker sounded impatient.
“Ryker,” I mocked his tone, as I sucked in my stomach so that the material could go down.
When it got to my hips, I paused, as I wasn’t sure if I could get it all the way down.
I shimmied back and forth and then stood still, pulling the material down my legs.
Then I looked in the mirror and grinned at my reflection.
The dress looked amazing and, even though it was tight, it held me in all the right places and made my body look a lot tighter and fitter than it was.
I was about to walk out when a feeling of shyness overwhelmed me.
What if Ryker didn’t like it? What if he didn’t think I looked amazing? What if?—