8. Amber
AMBER
T his is the worst idea I’ve ever had in my entire life.
Help sex me up?
God damn it.
“Girl, why are you pacing our living room?” Marissa asked, peering up from her large textbook full of Post-It notes and highlighted phrases. Tuesdays were her study night, no matter what, and tonight was no exception. “You’re making me antsy.”
“Sorry. It’s nothing. Just Jeff is helping me with the article, you know that, right?”
“Yeah, Laney brought it up. And you have a date tonight?” she asked, not hiding her surprise—or joy—from me. She had a manic smile and she even dropped her pen. “Like, he’s taking you on a date or helping you get one?”
“Uh, the second?”
“Have fun. Jeff is a snack .”
“I’m aware.” I still wore black sweatpants and an old Game of Thrones T-shirt, but I had shaved my legs, showered and put on my best makeup.
Wearing it always made me feel like I was playing dress-up, or trying to be cute when I never would be.
My mom used to laugh when I wore lipstick, telling me it wouldn’t help, and those feelings never really went away.
But I hadn’t talked to her since that phone call and I’d built myself up bit by bit.
“It’s still weird he’s helping me. We aren’t friends. ”
“Who cares. He owes you if you’re going to write about him.” She paused when someone knocked on the door. “That must be him, huh? I can’t wait to hear about how this goes.”
I smoothed my hair down and made sure I didn’t have anything stuck in my teeth before I let him in.
It was obnoxious how my body burst with anticipation.
He was going to help me dress the part, coach me on what to say and set me free in the bar to get answers from Max.
That was it. It wasn’t a date with him. So chill the hell out. “Hey, Jeff.”
“It’s fucking cold outside. Damn, let me in,” he said, rubbing his hands together over his mouth.
It gave me a couple of seconds to study his loose black T-shirt that was extra-long.
It showcased his pecs and biceps—my God, they were perfect—and he brushed past me without wearing a coat. “It’s supposed to snow tonight, too.”
“Great,” I replied, already thinking about the outfits I couldn’t wear. It was hard to be sexy wearing pants. Jeff didn’t wait for me to guide him before he headed toward my room and plopped down on my desk chair. “Sure, make yourself comfortable.”
“Already am.” He grinned widely at me, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing me up and down. “For starters, those sweatpants are hideous.”
“No shit. They are my comfy pants, asshole. I’m not trying to be cute and shit when I’m binge-watching Netflix.”
“I was teasing.” He lowered his voice and the expression on his face softened. “Are you nervous? You’re a bit prickly.”
“This was a terrible idea.” I let him hear me before I went to my closet and shuffled through my clothes until I found two dresses. “I am not prickly.”
“Yes, you are.” His voice was way closer to me than I anticipated and I jumped.
He stood right behind me. In my closet. His cologne and warmth didn’t have far to travel to greet my skin and the nearness to him caused my pulse to race in my ears.
“If you don’t mind, I’m gonna grab a couple options that catch my eye. ”
“Uh-huh,” was all I managed to say. He reached his right arm over me, placing his other on my shoulder, and he grabbed a blue dress I hadn’t worn in years. It was hard to focus when his hands were on me. His large, strong hands that I shouldn’t be thinking about.
The investigation. He thinks I’m unremarkable.
“Kinda got a small closet, Amber.” He moved past me, his pecs pressing against my back, before he stood on the other end and took three more items off hangers. “These are a start. Want to try them on?”
I nodded. It was bizarre, seeing him in my small closet, and he grinned before walking out.
Be cool. Try on the outfits. That’s it. No pressure.
My pep-talk didn’t help and sweat dripped down my back despite the freezing temperatures.
Wait—he’d set out short dresses. That was it. No pants or tights.
“Jeff, it’s cold outside. These are tiny.”
“You’ve gone out in the cold before. Gotta tough it out.”
“Yeah, when I was stupid and four shots in. I had a nice alcohol-induced blanket then.” I picked up the silky material I’d bought freshman year.
The dress was thin and left little to the imagination—the whole purpose was to catch the attention of guys and hook up with them.
Shame and regret washed through me when I remembered myself in my first year.
I’ve grown since then. I’m not that same girl.
I closed my eyes, giving myself ten seconds of pity, and when I opened them, Jeff leaned against my doorway with a concerned look. Is he feeling sorry for me again? Thinking I’m a loser? My self-doubt annoyed me and I snapped. “What?”
“I’ll drop you off at the door so you don’t have to be outside, okay?”
“I thought you were going to come in with me?”
“After I park, I will be. It’ll be better dropping you off, though. It is cold as shit outside and if you’re wearing any of those dresses, you’ll be showing a lot of skin.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down and gave me a playful smile.
It was easy to return. “Thank you.”
“Yup. Now quit stalling. Try them on.”
Okay. It’s showtime. I took off my sweats and shirt and slid on the blue dress that had a deep V in the front that went to my belly button.
It was one of the perks of not having large breasts—a fact Laney said she was jealous of because I could wear things like this.
I always thought it was a deficit but looking at myself in the mirror, there wasn’t as much doubt.
My bra straps looked tacky, so I removed it and marched from my closet into my bedroom to show Jeff. “Well?”
He looked up from his phone and jerked his head back. “This could work.”
“Not too much for a Tuesday night?” I winced and put my hands on my hips. Another nice feature of the dress was the illusion of having an hourglass figure. “I don’t think I’ve been to this bar before.”
“You’ll get his attention, I guarantee it.” He cleared his throat and dragged his gaze from my face to my chest, lingering for a minute, before eyeing my legs. “You look good. Want to try another?”
“S-sure.”
Is his voice lower than normal? Does he hate it?
Ugh. Enough. I shook my head and went back to my closet, stripping down and trying on a deep red dress that had no back.
Another perk of not having to wear a bra.
It fitted well, but it didn’t make me feel as sexy as the blue dress and Jeff’s expression only tightened when I showed him.
I fluffed my hair and asked, “Better or worse?”
“It’s fine.” He ran his hand under his jaw and looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here.
The lines around his eyes were tight and his lips were pressed together hard.
That was what got me angry. How dare he be impatient or annoyed?
I was doing this because of him and I pointed at his chest.
“Listen, I know this isn’t how you’d normally spend a night, but we’re investigating this together since you accused me of being a part of this whole thing.
The only reason I’m helping is to clear my uncle’s name, so you don’t get to act annoyed.
I didn’t force you to come here and I’m not enjoying a second of this either, okay?
” My voice shook a little at the end, but I wasn’t sure he noticed.
“Woah, Amber, I’m not…” He sighed for a good thirty seconds before a look of regret crossed his face. “I’m sorry I gave you that impression.”
“I’ll just wear the blue one and we can get this over with.
” I ran back into the closet with my heart beating so fast it was pushing against my ribcage.
I wasn’t confrontational. I didn’t do that, and yet, I said exactly what I wanted and got a high from it.
Go me. It took a minute to get back into the first dress and find some cute brown booties to pair with it.
My favorite floral perfume sat on the shelf and I spritzed it in my cleavage and hair and called it a night.
But when I entered my room, Jeff wasn’t sitting on the chair.
He was leaning over my dresser, looking at some pictures I had there. “Uh, what are you doing?”
“You look so happy in the pictures with Laney and Marissa.” He dragged his finger over my favorite photo—the three of us sophomore year covered in mud after it had poured rain on the quad and we’d fallen. It was in my top three favorite memories from college.
“I am happy with them. They’re my best friends.”
“You don’t have any family pictures in here.”
“Good observation.” Don’t ask about them. Please. I cleared my throat and asked before he had a chance to talk, “You ready?” I grabbed a swanky black blazer I’d bought for an interview the year before and, while it wasn’t considered sexy, it paired well with the dress.
“It’s a little early to head there. Plus, we should go over the questions and how you’re going to approach him.” He remained standing, and even with me in heeled shoes, our height difference was at least a foot. He towered over me but never made me feel unsafe. “What’s your line of questioning?”
“First thought was to act like a baseball groupie wanting to get all his information. Dudes love talking about themselves.”
“Hell, no.” His face twisted into one of disgust, like he’d swallowed a sour lemon whole. “Groupies have a bad rep and will make any sane guy run away as fast as he can.” He moved to sit back on the computer chair right next to me.
“But a groupie is easy to forget. I’ll just be another chick trying to get close to fame. They are forgettable.”
His gaze flicked to the deep cut-out of my dress for a second before he shook his head. “I’m not confident that would work.”