“Éclairs. Nom. Nom. My favorite.” She sniffs the desserts and closes her eyes.
“I know. I wish I could do more for you, but I have a feeling I’m going to be spending a lot today.” I pull my hair up, winding it into a loose bun.
“I’ve taken the liberty of pulling some dresses for you. I’ve one in particular that will be phenomenal on you, but I’m not going to sway you one bit. Because it’s an evening affair and it’s mid-August, the night may still be warm, but I’ve pulled shawls just in case.”
She leads me to a dressing room and I see three dresses hanging off the hooks. One is minty green, the other a light, bright blue, and the last is a silvery gray. I’m instantly drawn to the gray. The bodice is ornate and dips into a sweetheart bust line but comes up into a halter. The dress is chiffon, the bodice made of intricate beading that weaves around much like the filigree henna I tend to favor. The skirt falls to the floor, flaring out slightly at the hips. “I love this one.” I look at Jayne.
She laughs. “That one’s perfect for you. Hurry, let’s get it on you.”
The dress almost fits me. It needs to be taken in slightly at the waist and the length is an inch too long, even if I wear crazy high heels.
Jayne wags her brows at me, her smile large and excited. “Damn, if I’m not brilliant with clothes.” She steps back and signals for me to twirl. “You should keep your hair up. Show your back.”
I look over my shoulder to the mirror and am pleased with the image. I try to imagine Brinn’s expression when he sees me.
“What are you thinking? Your cheeks are red,” Jayne asks as she pins the waist.
I give a slight shrug. “I was wondering what Brinn will think. You know, gotta represent.”
Jayne’s quiet; her eyes searching my face. “Methinks you’re in love. This is more than shagging.”
I snort. “Methinks you’re crazy. It’s good sex, I’ll give you that, but there’s nothing more to it.”
She levels a look at me.
“OK, maybe we’re friends. We have a friendship.” I shrug and look away first.
“But I’m leaving soon. I got the job on that cruise ship.”
Jayne doesn’t cease her pinning. “Yes, because that ensures you can’t be in love. Leaving.”
“Why should I stay and be a reason my brother has to live in a mental ward?”
Jayne rolls her eyes with such severity I’m afraid they’ll get stuck. “Is that really the case? Did he go check himself in after spending the day with you last week?”
“No.
“Then stop with all the drama. Life dishes out enough without having to create any more.”
“But he needs his space.”
“Which can only be given to him by getting on a cruise ship and sailing far, far away. Yes, I see your point.” Her accent almost makes the sarcasm get lost. It’s hard when she’s so droll anyway.
“Even if I do stay, how do I end it with Brinn?”
She continues to stare, only this time somehow manages to look down her nose at me, from the floor. “Why would you end it? Most people date their crushes, not run from them.”
“Even if it’s a crush, it’s a little one.” I show an inch of space between my thumb and index finger. “We aren’t what the other wants. He’s so freaking tight-assed sometimes—”
“The lady doth protest too much.” She finishes the last pin and stands.
“The lady is going to shop somewhere else. Someplace without all the lip.”
“Because the truth hurts. Why does it matter if you love him? You won’t enjoy being with him less. Why would you walk away from something that’s working? At its very core, life is about falling in love and seeing if it might go somewhere. If it doesn’t then you’ll, hopefully, have sweet memories to take with you as you move on to the next one,” she says matter of fact. “Will it be this one or do you want to try others?”
“We’re talking about dresses, right?”
Jayne shrugs, a smile twitching on her lips.
“I’m going with this one.” I smooth my hands down the bodice and across the skirt as I process what Jayne said.
I look up at her. “I’m leaving,” I say it with determination as if the words will make it true. “I have to leave. It’s what I do.”
“If you say so. You could do something different and stay.” She leans back against the wall of the dressing room, one arm across her chest, the other resting on it, her chin cradled in the palm of her hand and gives me a pointed look.
“I’ll think about it.” I ignore her smile and stare at the dress, afraid she’ll see the truth in my eyes.
That I have been thinking about staying.
Leaving home with the intention of finding myself had no fixed rules or guidelines, only self-imposed ones that I created along the way. But I never thought about when I should end this journey. I never even imagined it. I suppose everything had a timestamp based on finding Will.
What if I did stay? I’m not sure I know how. What would that be like? When Brinn and I decide to call this quits, do I pretend indifference when our paths cross, as they inevitably will? Do I want to call it quits with him?
I can’t deny that Jayne has become my first girlfriend with any real depth and the thought of leaving makes me want to weep. Or that I wake up every day excited to see these new people in my life. Or how I can’t imagine snuggling up with anyone other than Brinn.
But the underlying fear of them walking away from me stops me from dwelling on the picture of what staying would look like.
Twenty-One
I arrive at Brinn’s faculty charity event alone. He wanted to pick me up but I wanted a grand entrance.
I step into the ballroom and spot Brinn instantly. He’s leaning against the bar, a beer in one hand, talking to a guy I’ve never seen before. When he sees me, he stands up tall, beer and guy forgotten.
As I walk across the room toward him, the beads on the bodice of my dress catch the chandelier’s crystals and bounce off, surrounding me in a halo of color. The moment is magic. The kind you fantasize about but never experience. The kind where everything around you falls aside and there is only you, the guy you can’t stop looking at, and this connection that can’t be defined.
I press my hand to my belly but it does nothing to calm the butterflies within nor the tremble in my hand.
“You look amazing, Brinn.” He does. Jayne fit him in a classic black tux with matching vest. A gray tie gives contrast to the suit and the white shirt, and his raw manliness and all over badassery leaves me feeling parched and only a cool glass of him will satisfy.
“You look unbelievable. People can’t stop staring at you,” he says, stepping forward to plant a light kiss on my lips.
“It’s not me they’re looking at. It’s this.” I turn and show him my back. On a whim I’d texted my brother and asked him if Daanya would be willing to apply silver body paint, henna-style, down my back to complement the severe cut of the dress.
They didn’t invite me to their place, but coming to mine on short notice is huge. I call that a win. And to put a further exclamation point on the whole thing, they are staying over at my place. Granted, I told them I would be out for the night, but still!