T W E N T Y - T H R E E
“I have something for you,” Charlie singsongs as he lets himself into my apartment while I currently stand in front of the mirror, trimming my ends. They looked a bit dull and the last thing I want is to hear about my split ends from my aunties this weekend.
He appears behind me holding a white shopping bag with a smirk across those pillowy lips of his.
“What is that?” I lift a brow.
He places a kiss on my cheek. “Come see.”
“I’ve got one section left.”
“Think it’s time for another trim?” He tugs on his own tresses.
“Not yet,” I murmur. “You’ve got male model hair and that’s going to drive my cousins crazy.”
“Do I detect a hint of pettiness coming from you, Nurse Matsumara?”
“Pettiness?” I hum, measuring the inch I’m about to cut off. “More like I want them to drool over my super hot boyfriend after years of calling me a lesbian.”
He chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans into the threshold of the doorway. “Assholes.”
“Ignorant is more like it. Love is love.”
“That’s right, baby,” he smiles. “Love is love.”
I ran my fingers through my locks a few times, deciding it was good enough before Charlie continued to dangle the bag in front of me .
“Don’t be a brat,” I pout. “It’s not nice to bait me with presents than not give it up.”
He towers over me with a glint. “If you wanted it, all you need to do is ask, Banks.”
I scrunch my nose at him before he lets me have the shopping bag.
He strides over to my bed, lying on his side while propping his head up for a front-row seat.
I pull it open to find a beautifully muted yellow fabric. It’s shimmery soft to the touch as I unfold the garment.
It’s a dress with delicate cap sleeves, a sweetheart neckline, and a flowy skirt that would hit my knee. It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen. The most luxurious thing I’ve ever touched.
“Charlie,” my words practically see-through when I noticed the label on the inside. “Holy shit… I can’t accept this.”
“Of course, you can,” he replies.
I gape at him. “Charlie, this dress had to of cost you thousands of dollars. I can’t—”
“Try it on.”
My eyes are about to spill out of their sockets. I feel like my hands are burning the fabric as we speak.
“This is a House of Clara Barnes dress,” I emphasize.
Charlie’s eyes grow heavy. “I’m aware. Clara is married to my dad’s cousin. I’ve got a family discount if that makes you feel better.”
That did not, in fact, make me feel better.
“What?” I gawk. “You’re related to Clara Barnes?”
“Barnes, baby,” he mocks. “Sort of a dead giveaway.”
“How did I not know that? ”
He shrugs. “Are you going to get naked and try it on for me or not?” he cheekily adds.
I still felt unworthy of a dress that easily retails for more than my monthly salary, but I did itch to see it on. I only prayed I do it justice. That I fulfilled the image Charlie had in his head of me wearing it.
Soon I found myself twirling around my apartment, having a real-life Cinderella moment.
“Can I open my eyes yet?” Charlie huffs. “I can hear you spinning around.”
I snicker to myself, pressing the skirt as I pause.
I’ve read countless books where the male lead buys the girl clothes, sometimes it’s a kink and others it’s just a sweet gesture. I always wondered how I might feel if a man were to ever buy me clothing and now as I stood in the dress of my dreams, I feel like mush.
I’m in awe that he picked something so utterly me, while also surprised at myself that I would even doubt him. Charlie knows me inside and out, better than I even know myself.
“Open.”
Thick eyelashes unveil his striking blue eyes as he straightened himself. Using my body as a road map which he roams with no intention of leaving a single inch undiscovered.
“Speechless?” I sweetly taunt.
His jaw ticks.
“I’ll admit, you do have very good taste, Mr. Barnes.”
Charlie slowly raises, expanding to his full height as he casts a shadow over me.
“I am speechless,” he lightly confesses as his tongue darts out past his teeth and sweeps over his bottom lip .
I smile as his finger delicately slips under the edge of the sleeve, gently caressing my skin.
“You’re something else, Matsumara,” he drawls.
“Worthy of being on a made-up man’s arm?”
He snorts, taking my face between his palms. “Worthy of the world, baby.” He leans in and places a kiss on the edge of my nose. “Don’t you ever forget that.”
Giggling, I shake my head. “I love it. Thank you,” I say against his lips.
“Wear it for the wedding?” he asks. “I want to see you twirl around the dance floor in it.”
“As long as you’re the one doing the twirling.”
“I better be,” he smirks.