Page 58 of Beautiful Deceit
"I'm gonna put some clothes on really quick," I say, thinking he mustn't have heard me.
"I heard you, but why?" He seems truly confused looking at my black yoga pants and baggy vee neck shirt that is so threadbare you can clearly make out the color of my bra through it.
"I can't go outside in this, I'll only be a minute." I scoff.
"What's wrong with what you have on?" he challenges.
"I don't wear this in public," I gesture down at my body.
He looks down again, "Alright." He concedes, "I don't think I want anyone seeing your ass in those pants anyway, but the shirt stays." He commands like I'll just obey
"What?" Now it's my turn to question him, “You can’t be serious?”
"I think I like that I'm the only one seeing you in those things you call pants, but the shirt Sweets, it’s sexy. I want you to keep that shirt on." He looks up at me, his tongue licking across his bottom lip.
My stomach clenches as I find myself saying, "Okay." I dash back to the bathroom where my jeans are folded on top of the dryer.
The washer has finished, so I pull everything out and hang my new bras on the hooks I've installed for just this purpose and throw the rest in the dryer on low.
I look in the mirror and see my flushed cheeks. My lips are curved up in an easy smile. I think this is pretty close to the best I've looked in a while. I look happy and not even my slouchy white t-shirt can make me feel bad.
I skip out of the bathroom.
Chapter 17
Beau already has his shoes on when I'm done getting dressed. I'm super excited about seeing his place. He's mentioned it’s close, but that's all I know.
I grab my black moto jacket, slide my feet into a pair of grey Lucchese boots, and pull my small cross body purse over my head. I'm ready.
I turn around to see Beau watching me with a small smile. His gray shirt is a little wrinkled. He doesn't have a jacket because it was warm today out in the sun, but now he'll probably freeze.
"I'll call a cab. It'll only take a minute"
"You don't want to walk?" He asks and pulls his phone from his back pocket looking at the screen, before sticking it back.
I point to him answering with, "It's probably twenty degrees cooler now with the sun down, and you don't have a coat."
He looks down, "I still dress like I live in California. I don't know if I even brought a coat, but I'll be fine. We can walk, it doesn’t bother me." I think about us walking home earlier today, wondering what made him nervous then.
Was it the heavy crowd?
"Okay, but don't come crying to me when you get the sniffles."
His bottom lip pokes out, and he actually pouts, "You wouldn't make me soup?"
I so would, but he doesn't need to know that.
I tut and roll my eyes, turning my back to him, “I’ve heard men can be real babies when they're sick."
I unlock the door and walk out.
He catches up to me quickly, "I don't know about your other boyfriends." He sneers the words, "But I am no baby." He pats his hard chest as an indication of his manliness.
"I haven't had anyboyfriends," I try to put the same amount of disdain into the word as he did, but it just sounds weird coming from me. He pushes open the entry door, standing with his back to it as he holds it open for me to pass.
I look up as I do and say, "Thank you," for the simple gesture.
He nods, seeming distracted, "What do you mean you haven't had any boyfriends?" His voice sounds guarded, like he is uncertain if he should be asking me about it.
