Page 151 of Seasons of War
“Are you the one he hurt, then?” Kira asked.
“I stopped fighting Zayne before we even graduated from the academy. He's crazy. There's no way I can keep up with that level of obsession. I won't be the one who ends up bleeding on his shirt.”
Mellie pursed her lips at Kira, eyes traveling slowly down her. “Are you not wearing the cute skirt tonight?”
“I don't know. I haven't changed yet.”
A forced smile, and Mellie looped her arm through Kira's. “Let's go shopping in your closet.”
But that turned out to meanlet's block the closet and wait for you to try on the skirt.
Seeming to realize Kira liked her privacy, Mellie turned away while she changed. “If you hate it, don't wear it. I just want to see it.”
Sure.
Kira tucked the white shirt into the pleated navy skirt. Normally, she didn't tuck her shirts in because she worried about how her stomach looked, but the skirt cinched high on her waist, right at the deepest part of her curve. It fanned out, so it didn't cling but was just snug enough on her hips to showcase her favorite parts of her figure. Like it was tailored to her.
Mellie should make a career of this. She was good. Her eyes lit up when she turned to see and gasped very loudly.
Kira's fingers traced the hem of the skirt and felt where it cut off at her thighs, higher than she normally wore her clothes. “I don't know if it's flattering on my legs.”
“It's very flattering on your legs. Men and their thighs. Brock will love it.”
“I don't want Brock to love it.”
Mellie's smile fell. “Sorry. You're right. I need to stop. Here, let's look for something else.”
While Mellie riffled through more clothes, Kira looked in the mirror again, admiring her shape and her curves. She didn't feel self-conscious about her soft stomach or thick thighs, but good. Great, actually. Why shouldn't she wear an outfit she loved? Did Mellie ever decide she looked too good and then change? Kira didn't need to hide.
“I'll wear it. For me, not Brock.”
“Yes,” Mellie said. “That's right.”
When they returned to the living room, Mellie looked pensive. “Zayne better not have any blood on him when he comes out here. I worked hard on making everything nice tonight. You'll die when you see the back yard.”
Kira and Adelle had not been allowed back there because Mellie wanted to surprise them, but she'd seen people pulling trucks around the house.
This was Mellie's dollhouse tonight.
Zayne stepped into the room then, no longer in uniform or bloody. Instead, he wore a silky black button-up shirt that tucked into his dark pants, highlighting the taper of his waist compared to his broad shoulders. The way the fabric stretched over his biceps and lay against his pecs was entirely inappropriate. Yes, it was just a dress shirt and not any tighter than anyone else's, but it fit him so perfectly—whoever tailored it knew what they were doing.
They were not innocent. No way.
He smiled lightly at his mom when she greeted him, and the way it softened his eyes while sharpening his jaw built a sigh in her chest.
Wow.
He cleaned up really, really well.
Really well.
Brock cleared his throat and passed a glass of water to her. “You're supposed to be cousins,” he whispered.
“Obviously. I just was, you know,” Her stomach twisted, and she took a big drink. “Yeah, okay.”
He smirked at her and pushed the drink back up toward her mouth when she finished. “By the way, delicate subject.” Sticking his hands in his pockets, he leaned back on his heels. “Our cover story is that I fell for you. Sorry. Awkward.”
Kira choked on her water, drawing Zayne's attention.
