Faked (Ward Family #2)(7)

Everything about my package, so to speak, felt ill at ease with the slippery material of the dress, and the way it would skim down my body. It was the kind of dress that had people staring, I realized. Lia was never bothered by that. My twin didn’t seek out that attention, but she wasn’t uncomfortable with it like I was.

I walked over to the bed and ignored Lia's speculative gaze. My fingers reached out and snagged the hanger, lifting it so that the dress flowed down in one fluid column of silk.

"I never wear yellow," I heard myself say.

Lia bit down on a triumphant smile, and I ignored that too.

One night. I would have one night, my chance to experience quality time with the guy I'd been crushing on for years, even if he did think I was my sister. We would eat an overpriced meal that would most likely taste like cardboard and listen to actual adults talk about important things. And maybe, just maybe, I'd take a chance and tell Finn that it was me and how I felt.

Wearing a yellow silk dress that made me look far more than average.

The thought was there and gone before I could stop it.

"There it is," Lia whispered. "You're gonna look killer, little sister."

I gave her a dry look. "By two minutes."

"Still counts." She booped my nose. "Go try it on. I need to leave for my seminar in fifteen minutes, and I want to see how it looks before I go."

As she left me alone in my bedroom, I felt a pang of nerves brighter than the ones I'd been carrying around for the past few days as we led up to this insane plan. It wasn't that I worried about the dress not fitting. Even if Lia managed to look a bit more polished, we were the same size and had the same coloring.

I could mimic her hairstyle, put on my makeup like she did (she went heavier on the lipstick than I ever dared), and even adopt some of her mannerisms without thinking twice. But it was the quiet moments that I feared most. The times during dinner when Finn might look over at me, expecting to see his best friend and share a look over something they both found stupid or overbearing. What would my face look like at those moments?

Like my oldest sister, Molly, I wore my emotions on my face. Except with Finn. I'd learned to hide them under the mountain of sisterly respect, the undefinable twin bond that had always been more important than how much I loved Finn's smile, and the way he muttered jokes under his breath when he thought no one was listening. The quick way he thought and the way he was able to handle Lia when she was at her most stubborn.

Nothing between them was romantic, I knew that. They'd been friends for too long. But maybe I'd be able to start something with him, if he got the chance, a real chance, to get to know me as more than Lia's sister.

Still alone in my room, with the sounds of Lia banging around the apartment, I undressed quietly. A glance at the bedside clock told me that I had over an hour before Finn would pick me up.

Trying on the dress before doing my hair and makeup might've been silly, but then maybe I was silly to want my sister to give me her stamp of approval before she ducked out and left me alone in this duplicity. As I slid the straps off the padded hanger, I thought about one of the lessons in my last classes.

Children usually start forming the ability to tell a lie around the age of three. It was developmentally appropriate and fairly harmless at that age. It's actually a positive signal, in some ways. When a child can form the idea that a different narrative might serve them better, it shows that they're starting to process how the mind works. My mom thinks one thing, and I disagree; therefore, I'm going to tell her something that she wants to hear.

Strange to think of it as encouraging, but from a developmental standpoint, it's not a terrible thing when kids figure out their way around the truth.

But what Lia and I were doing, that was a signal of a whole different type. I pulled the dress up over my body and inhaled sharply at the feel of the material against my naked skin.

Decadent.

Sumptuous.

And selfish.

There was very little positive for anyone in this, except me. Even Lia wasn't really gaining anything by me going in her place because we both knew she wasn't going to skip the lecture. My lie wasn't on the same level as a four-year-old telling his mom that he would get dressed, and instead ended up in the backyard, stomping through mud puddles in his pajamas. I was pretending to be someone different just to gain time with someone who'd never looked at me twice.

With that gem of a thought, I turned and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror propped up against the stark white wall.

My breath caught unintentionally.

"Whoa," I whispered.

Lia's face appeared behind me, split into a wide grin. "Daaaaaaayuuuum. You look good, C."

My cheeks suffused with her genuine praise. "I can't wear a bra with this, Lia."

"You sure cannot." She nudged me with her elbow. "Don't bend over too fast for anything."

"I can promise you I won't." I skimmed my hands down the front of the dress. The V was so stupid low, showing a slice of my chest that had never before been shown in public. But besides that, I looked ... I looked like a princess.

Like if Belle from Beauty and the Beast got a twenty-first-century upgrade on her killer dress.

A hot, definitely not average looking princess.

"Finn's mom's middle name?"

I rolled my eyes. "Robin."