Chapter 13 Liv
LIV
Ihold up the pink wrap dress I packed for tonight's rehearsal dinner and lay it on the bed.
The dress hits just above my knees with three-quarter sleeves and a low neckline that's flattering without being inappropriate for a family gathering.
It's one of my favorites and makes me feel confident and put-together without trying too hard.
Perfectly farm elegant, if there is such a thing.
Behind me, Blair is moving around, and when I glance in the mirror, I see she's emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around her chest.
Fuck. I quickly look away, my cheeks heating as I focus on smoothing invisible wrinkles from my dress. The memory of last night—her in her underwear—is still entirely too fresh in my mind and seeing her like this again isn't helping.
"Is this okay for the rehearsal dinner?" she asks, and I risk a glance over my shoulder to see her holding up a pink button-down shirt and black chinos.
"Um... Yeah, that's perfect."
She disappears back into the bathroom and leaves the door open while she combs her hair. It's strange getting ready together. An everyday routine that real couples take for granted, and here we are, playing house so naturally that I'm almost forgetting it's all pretend.
"Liv?" Blair's voice carries from the bathroom.
"Yeah?" I plug in my straightening iron and start sectioning my hair.
She sticks her head around the corner and lowers her voice. "Do you feel bad about the lying?"
The question catches me off guard, but it's a valid one. The guilt has been gnawing at me since we arrived and I've been pushing it away.
"Yes," I admit, working on my hair. "I do feel bad about it. But I started this mess, and now I’ll have to see it through."
There's a pause, and then she asks, "Aren't you going to ask me if I feel bad about it?"
I frown, setting down the straightening iron. "Why would you? You're getting paid to do a job. You're just playing a role."
"Yeah, but your parents are lovely people, and they're so happy for us. I had a really nice time with your dad today and your mother keeps looking at us like we're the answer to her prayers."
"I'm sorry,” I say. “I didn't really think this through as well as I thought I did." I continue, picking up another section of hair. "But you'll never have to face them again after this weekend."
"That's not the point, though," she says with genuine frustration in her voice. "They're nice to me and I'm doing them wrong. It feels... it feels shitty, Liv."
It's sweet that she's so concerned with my parents' feelings, that she's taking this deception as seriously as I am—maybe even more so.
"So what's the plan for the breakup?" she continues. "Are you going to make me out to be the bad girl? Tell them I dumped you or broke your heart?"
I flinch because that was exactly my plan. Blame it on her. It seems like the obvious and easy way out.
"Please don't," she says when I don't answer. "I don't want them to hate me. I don't want to be that person."
I shake my head, looking down at my feet.
"Okay, I won't," I lie. The truth is, it's not just my parents who will never see her again—I won't either.
Well, unless I run into her at the coffee shop again, but I can always avoid that place, find a new one.
So really, what does it matter what I tell my parents?
It's not like Blair will ever find out. I just need to keep reminding myself that this is a transaction.
We're not here to become besties. I just need to get through this weekend and then get on with my life.
Preferably without staring at her too much.
"Good. Thank you," she says. “I appreciate that.”
I finish my hair and turn off the straightening iron, then slip off my robe to put on the dress. I position myself so she can't see me from the bathroom doorway, but just as I'm standing there in my black lace bra and matching panties, she walks into the room and stops mid-stride.
Blair stares for a beat, her eyes traveling down my body before she swiftly turns around.
"Sorry," she mutters.
I quickly put on the dress. "It’s fine. I'm decent now."
She turns back around, and I catch something heated in her expression.
"I just need to finish my makeup," I say, fumbling for words. "But I can wait outside while you get dressed?" I struggle with my necklace, the delicate chain refusing to cooperate with my trembling fingers.
"I don't mind if you don't. We're sharing a bed anyway, and we're both adults." Blair’s mouth curves into that grin again while she watches me. "Let me help you with that, sugar plum."
I want to scold her for using that word again, but she comes up behind me, gently moving my hair to one side and that simple action alone takes away my ability to speak.
She's close; I can smell her shampoo. She smells nice.
Her fingers brush against the nape of my neck as she works the clasp, and I shiver.
This time it's not just the flutter in my belly—heat shoots between my thighs, sharp and unmistakable.
For a split second, a fantasy crosses my mind: Blair wrapping an arm around me from behind, kissing my neck, her hand sliding down...
"There," she says, her breath warm against my ear.
When I'm about to turn back around, she puts her hands on my shoulders, stopping me.
"Just give me a minute to get my underwear on. Unless you want to watch? I don’t mind."
I laugh and shake my head. "Are you serious?
" I'm grateful she can't see my face right now because I suspect I look the way I feel.
Damn it, Liv. Get a grip. I need to remember that this is all an act, even if my body seems to have forgotten.
It's not easy; I'm only human and she's a very attractive woman.
And she's currently standing behind me, naked.
"Just saying. Anything you want, Liv. You're the boss."
I shake my head and roll my eyes as I listen to the rustle of fabric.
"Done," she says, and when I turn around, she's wearing her chinos and the pink shirt. "It seems we're coordinated without even trying." She glances at my pink dress and arches a brow. "Couple goals, huh?"
"Sure." I chuckle as I notice her shirt. "By the way, your buttons are off by one."
She glances down, following the misaligned placket. "Damn it. I’m not used to wearing dress shirts. I borrowed it."
"Here, let me." I step closer and begin to undo her work.
She stands perfectly still while I unfasten each button, my fingers working methodically down the front of her shirt. When I reach the last button, I start again from the top, re-doing each one properly.
All the while, she's staring at me.
"What?" I ask, tucking her shirt into her chinos once the last button is secure.
"Nothing," she says. "Just enjoying the view. You look beautiful, Liv."
I wave her off. "I don't, but—"
"You need to learn how to take a compliment." Amusement dances in Blair’s eyes. "Has anyone ever told you that you're terrible at accepting praise?"
"I'm not terrible at—" I start, but she cuts me off.
"You are. You deflect." Her gaze travels over my face, lingering on my lips. "But just take it from me, okay? You look beautiful. Elegant and fucking sexy."
I don't know where to look or what to say. I hate that for once, I'm not as in control as I normally am. Blair's making me feel off-balance, uncertain, and I don't like it one bit.
"Are you trying to get me in bed or something?" I ask, inching back and crossing my arms.
"What's wrong with a little flirting?" she asks innocently. "It'll only make this more believable, and we're about to go to the rehearsal dinner. The pressure's on." She winks. “Besides, I’m already in your bed.”
I smirk but don’t answer while I wait for her to put on her shoes. Deep down, part of me likes the attention. It's been years since I felt anything physical around a woman, and maybe she's right—what's wrong with a little flirting?