Page 14 of Secrets and Lies
“I feel like it’s perfect because it’s unique enough to make a statement, but still subtle enough to make sure that you’re the main attraction and it’s just there to hold your stuff,” I say, choosing my words carefully.
She smiles, and I know I picked the right answer. Fashion is her area of expertise; I just wear what I think looks good instead of trying to follow trends.
“Are you sure you don’t mind if we have a girls’ night?” she asks as she carefully sits on the edge of the settee in the dressing area.
“Of course not,” I tell her as she slips the jeweled heels on. “You need time with your friends without me. I get it.”
She shoots me a look I can’t read and picks up the other shoe. “You’re not worried?”
“Why would I be worried?” I ask as she slips it on. “I trust you.”
“I know.” She stands and turns back to the mirror. “And I love that you do, but it’s kind of weird you don’t get jealous when I go out without you. It makes me wonder if you’re glad I’m not going to be around or something like that.”
This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation, and I never know what to say when she brings this kind of thing up because it’s a red flag if I get jealous and try to control her, but then it’s also a red flag if I don’t get jealous and don’t try to control her. It almost feels like I’m being set up to lose no matter what.
“I just want you to have fun,” I say once again, choosing my words carefully. “And you can’t do that if you have to spend your night worrying about me and my feelings, so I try not to make nights like tonight about me.”
There’s something off about her smile, but I try not to dwell on it as she fluffs up her perfect beach waves and leans closer to the mirror to check her makeup.
My eyes are drawn to her left hand and the 4-carat Dutch Marquis diamond ring on her finger as it sparkles under the soft light of her dressing area. It’s not the ring I would have chosen for her, but she loves it, and that’s all that matters.
“What are you going to get up to while I’m out?”
Her tone is casual, but in that careful way that tells me she’s fishing for information.
“Not sure,” I say honestly. “I might see if Damon is busy, but I’m kind of in hibernation mode, so I’ll probably watch a movie and gorge on snacks.”
She turns from the mirror again and raises one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “It’s Saturday night, and you’re going to watch a movie by yourself?”
This is also a conversation I’m used to having with her.
I’ve always been an extroverted introvert. I like to go out and have fun and party as much as the next person, but I have my limits, and I’m not a fan of going out every night.
McKenna is the opposite. She also has a serious case of chronic FOMO, so to her, staying in her room while all her friends are out is unfathomable, and she always gets suspicious when I spend my time alone.
But I know that trying to explain myself will just make things worse, so I just smile and give her a little shrug. “What can I say? I’m boring as fuck when you’re not around.”
She makes a soft humming sound that could mean anything, then slips the strap of her new purse over her shoulder. “Thoughts on the full look?”
I look her up and down as she turns to the side so I can see the perfect swells of her ass and breasts under the skintight dress. “Everything about it is perfection,” I tell her. “Ten out of ten, no notes.”
She really does look spectacular, and it’s not just her dress or the shoes. It’s true she has a banging body that she puts a lot of time and effort into maintaining, but she’s also confident and fun and has a sparkle that’s impossible to ignore.
She’s also a ballbuster who knows what she wants and goes after it. And she’s not shy about voicing her displeasure when things aren’t up to her standards, or when people try to tell her what to do.
It’s nice to not have to be the one who’s always making decisions or taking charge of every situation. I can just do what I’m told and go along for the ride.
Unfortunately it also means I tend to get ignored when I do have opinions on things or actually want to be part of the planning process, but that’s pretty much how things have always been for me, so I’m used to it.
A faint chime emanates from her phone.
“Time to head out?” I ask as she checks her notifications.
She nods and tucks her phone into her new shell purse.
A memory of my grandmother showing my mom a nearly identical purse when I was a kid hits out of nowhere, only instead of the sparkly strap, it had a thin black one.
That’swhere I’ve seen it before.
