Chapter 9 #2
I pushed my insecurities away and slipped the dress on, tugging it over my hips until it was flush against my skin—and wow.
My eyes widened at the woman staring back at me in the mirror, adjusting the straps on my shoulders and pressing out the material on my hips.
The dress hugged me like it had been waiting for my body—cinched in all the right places, soft but unapologetic.
Sweet and seductive, coexisting in a way that felt… powerful.
“How's it looking?” Nerissa’s voice called from the order side of the changing room.
Biting my lip, I stepped out, and Nerissa’s jaw dropped.
“Oh. My. God.”
“You think?”
“Hun, I know,” she drawled, stepping forward with a determined look on her face.
“You’re buying it.”
“I don’t know—”
“Savannah,” she cut in gently, “you look incredible.”
Sincerity carried her words, making me smile at her. My shoulders eased back and I glanced at my reflection again.
“Okay, okay. I'll get it.”
“Chase is going to be on his hands and knees when he sees you in this.”
I huffed a laugh. “That’s not the goal.”
“Girl, he'll be at the altar looking at you instead of that little slut,” she said. “Then you'll just walk right by him because”—she held up her open palm in a stop motion, singing the phrase—“thank you, next.”
I giggled and shook my head, leaving her to take off the dress. Then ten minutes later, we were at the cashier.
“What did you need retail therapy for anyway?” I asked as I slung the dress over the counter and greeted the woman behind it with a warm smile.
Nerissa’s shoulders slumped a little.
“Problems with my building. Unfortunately, I have to find a new place in the next two days.”
“Wait, what?”
“The building got sold and now the new owner wants everyone out. It's a whole mess.”
“What… where are you going to go?”
“I'm trying to work it out, make a couple calls. Worse case scenario, I'll move back in with my folks.”
I collected the bag and thanked the cashier before we walked out the door.
“The guys—couldn't you stay with one of them for a bit?”
“Well, Jaxon's an obvious no go. And Jesse has his girlfriend who can be a jealous bitch—long story—so he's out of the question. Ariyo… I love him, I really do, but he has a party at his house every night if you know what I mean.”
My nose crinkled and I stifled a laugh.
“Gross.”
“Exactly. I stayed with him once when my place was being fumigated and walked in on him getting head on the couch. So yeah, no, not happening.” She looped her arm with mine. “If you know a place that I can move into, let me know.”
“Well…” I paused, trying to think of the spare floor in my townhouse. “I may have a place.”
“Oh yeah?”
“The townhouse I'm in, the main floor is free right now. I'd have to talk to Penny—the house owner and a bit of a family friend. If you don't mind moving across the bridge, then I'll ask.”
“God, really? Please, please, ask her. I'm desperate.”
I laughed. “I'll send her a message tomorrow morning.”
Squealing, she pulled me into a side hug. “I knew I liked you. Best believe you're stuck with me now, hun. There isn't a… no way! Buy one, get one?” Her attention shifted to the signage on one of the windows we were walking by. I followed her gaze and blanched.
“Oh no,” I said immediately, already knowing. “Absolutely not.”
She grinned at the lingerie store like she was a child looking onto a field of candy. I shook my head and tugged her to keep walking, but she stood firmly in place.
“Savannah,” she pleaded, grabbing my arm.
“Please.”
“No.”
“Five minutes.”
“No.”
“Two minutes.”
“Nerissa—”
She gave me the look. Big eyes. Wicked smile. Full menace.
I laughed despite myself, shaking my head as she dragged me forward. “You’re impossible.”
“And you need sexy lingerie.”
“I'm not the lingerie type.”
It wasn't a lie.
With Chase, sex became more of a chore instead of something I wanted to do, so there was no need for lingerie. We tried different things at the start of our relationship, but after a while, the connection started to fade to dust.
“Every woman is the lingerie type. And you have the body for it.”
I just rolled my eyes.
The store smelled faintly of vanilla and something floral, the lighting warm and flattering in a way that felt intentional. Nerissa immediately disappeared into a rack of lace and I hovered near the entrance, clutching my shopping bag like a shield.
She reemerged moments later with her arms full.
“Okay, tell me which of these says ‘emotionally unavailable but devastatingly hot.’”
“All of them,” I said honestly, dropping onto a velvet bench.
She vanished into a fitting room, and for a while I just sat there, scrolling through my phone as muffled commentary floated out.
“No, this one is illegal.”
“Why does this have straps here?”
“Nerissa, you sexy bitch.”
“Oh, wait actually… there.”
I chuckled to myself, warmth settling in my chest. Was this what a normal friendship felt like? If it was… it felt easy. Even just being there, relaxing and laughing—not thinking about the wealth of drama that was my life.
Whatever this was, it felt good.
I hope it lasts.
Nerissa popped back out in a night-plum lace number, with a mesh corset wrapped around her torso and the garter straps attached. She placed a hand on her hip, striking a pose.
“Thoughts?”
“Men should fear you,” I said solemnly.
“Correct.” She pointed at me. “Now it’s your turn.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Go pick something.”
“No,” I said quickly. “Nerissa, I—”
“You would look criminally hot. Just one and then we can go.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it at her pleading gaze.
“I don't know why I bother,” I muttered, rising from the bench.
Victory sparkled in her grin. “Neither do I.”
And that began our little “find sexy lingerie for Savannah” mission—not that anyone would see it anytime soon.
These next few months, I was going to be glued to my study materials.
If exams went well, it would be more of a reason for Warren and Adams to consider me as a serious candidate for the internship.
I tried on a few—nothing wild, nothing outrageous. And then one caught my eye. Black lace with a simple binding around the waist. When I stepped out of the fitting room, I suddenly became very aware of myself.
Nerissa’s expression changed instantly. “Well, damn.”
I glanced at my reflection again. It wasn’t about sex. Not really. It was about confidence. About seeing myself without the weight of everything else layered on top.
“I actually… like this one,” I admitted.
Nerissa’s grin turned slow and wicked. “Like it? Babe, you fucking own it.”
I shifted my weight, smoothing a hand over the lace at my waist. The mirror reflected a version of me I didn’t see often—shoulders back, chin lifted, eyes brighter.
Not exposed. Not reckless. Just… alluring confidence.
For once, I wasn’t thinking about Chase, or contracts, or grades, or expectations.
I was just standing there, existing in my body without apologizing for it.
“I am no better than a man,” she drawled from behind me.
I laughed, ducking my head. “Well, there you go—Nerissa entertained. My job is done. Besides, I’m not buying it, I just wanted to…” I gestured vaguely. “See.”
“Boo.” She frowned.
“It was good to see how it looked, though.”
“Well, if you're not buying it, then save it for later.” She pulled out her phone. “Future Savannah will thank us. Come on, strike a pose or something.”
Rolling my eyes, I leaned against the dressing room door and looked confidently at the camera. She snapped a picture while I adjusted the strap, then handed the phone to me to see.
“Okay, let's go. You can—”
“Oh no, it's your turn,” I said, ushering her to where I stood. She giggled and stepped back into the fitting room. When she emerged, she was wearing another set—wine-red, dramatic, unapologetic—and struck a pose like she was on a runway. I raised the phone, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And hot. Focus.”
I snapped the photo, then dropped onto the bench again.
“Text yours to your phone so you have it. Oh, this one is by far my favorite,” she announced, her gaze glued to the mirror as she twirled. “But the only thing is the wire right here. Not a fan of that.”
I glanced up at her as my thumbs moved automatically. “Uncomfortable?”
“Sort of. It's kind of digging into my side. But the color is so cute, and it's not like it'll stay on the entire time.”
“Which is why I don't bother with it in the first place,” I told her.
“Two months with me and that'll change, trust. Men love it and love ripping it off even more.”
“And who's ripping yours off?” My teasing continued as I selected the image and hit share, barely glancing at the screen.
“You better believe I'll find someone.”
We laughed, and I picked up my phone to save the picture… only it wasn't there. My brows furrowed, and I looked down at Nerissa’s phone in confusion. Was a delay because it was a picture? Seemed strange but—
The second my gaze locked on the name at the top of the chat, my stomach dropped.
The message thread wasn’t mine.
It was… oh no.
Time slowed, thick and syrupy, as my brain screamed no no no no while my fingers fumbled uselessly at the screen.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, tapping wildly at the screen. The picture was still in the loading phase. Maybe if I—
“What?” Nerissa poked her head out of the fitting room.
“I—” I swallowed, tapping furiously at the screen. Then my stomach fell hard as I focused on the one word that would mean my ultimate demise and embarrassment: Delivered. No. “I just… I just sent it to Jaxon.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then Nerissa’s eyes went wide.
And then she burst out laughing—so hard it brought tears to her eyes. “You’re kidding.”
“I am absolutely not kidding!” I exclaimed, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might crack a rib. “I didn’t even mean to—my thumb just—”
“Oh my God.” She pressed a palm to her chest as she tried desperately to steady her breathing. “This is priceless. No, wait, this is fate. Beautiful, delicious fate.”
“This is a nightmare is what this is,” I hissed, covering my face. “Wait, maybe I can just respond and tell him not to…”
My eyes zoned in on where the worword Delivered switched to Read.
My life was officially over.
Her laughter softened as she stepped closer, squeezing my arm. “Hey, relax. You look fucking incredible. If anything, he’s the one who's going to be panicking—and immediately get blue balls.”
Groaning, I sunk my head in my hands. “I don't want him to get anything when it comes to me. I hate him. He hates me.”
“Could've fooled me.” She smirked. “You're gonna have—”
I peeked through my fingers at my phone, my heartbeat taking a new rhythm as I watched it light up immediately.
Jaxon.
“Tell me,” Nerissa said, eyes glittering, “does that reaction scream hate to you?”
My pulse betrayed me, fluttering traitorously as I thought about our date, about our almost-kiss. I'd been avoiding him since then, knowing that we almost crossed a line.
But now, the line had been obliterated with one photo.
“It doesn't matter.” I scoffed and slid the button to decline. “We have a deal and we're sticking to it. No getting involved is part of that.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Trust me, nothing will ever happen between Jaxon and I.”
Not if I had a say in it.
She gave me a knowing look before heading back into the dressing room. I grinded my teeth and ran my fingers through my hair. Whatever this was turning into… it was definitely not part of the plan.
My phone dinged, and his name flashed across the screen again, this time with a text.
And all it took was one word for me to know that my accidental photo would cause a chaotic chain of events.
JAXON
Trouble.