A Guide to Being Just Friends(64)

“I would never bail on you.” Definitely not for Seth. He was nice and all but Wes was … Wes.

“Right. Of course. Is that the shower I hear?”

“Wes,” she said more urgently. “I need to go.”

She heard his groan as she disconnected. She showered as fast as she could without leaving soap in her hair. Fortunately, she’d been playing around with her hair last Sunday when she watched the kids so she wound her partially dry hair into a cute bun she’d seen on Pinterest. It was harder to do on her hair than it had been with Cassie’s but it wasn’t horrible. She applied her makeup and was proud of the time she was making until the buzzer sounded.

She looked down at her towel tucked between her breasts and swore. There was no way around this. Her dress was in her closet. If she waited until she put it on to answer Wes, he’d know she wasn’t ready anyway. So she buzzed him in, left the door unlocked, and hurried to her closet.

He came in as she was pulling her blue dress out. She turned and nearly choked on her breath. Holy shit, he cleaned up well. His charcoal suit made those blue eyes shine like the ocean. His hair was styled to look messy but just looked sexy as hell. Here she was, not even dressed and he looked like he’d stepped out of GQ.

Her words got tangled. She might have lost a few brain cells staring at him wondering what it was about a man who wore a suit.

He gestured to her. “You’re, uh, you’re…”

She looked down and laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not wearing a towel. Wow. You look great.”

“Thank you. So do you.”

Her face scrunched. “Right. I’m sure I look amazing. I just have to slip this on and I’m ready.”

“Oh. That’s what you’re wearing?”

Her heart cramped. Right. She’d worn it before. He probably had his suit custom-made by Gucci or something. He was used to women like Ana Pergo who probably never wore the same thing twice.

Doing her best to hide her hurt, she looked at her bare feet. “Is that okay?”

Wes’s feet showed up in her line of sight. She looked up then followed his gaze to her bed. For one split second, heat infused her body like someone had lit a kerosene lamp under her skin.

Wes swallowed audibly. She became all too aware of her towel.

“Hailey,” he said, his gaze coming back to her, running over her face like a soft touch. “Why don’t you open that.”

She stared at him a moment. There was something different in his gaze. Something that made her lungs feel tight. Setting her dress on the bed, she slowly unwrapped the shiny pink box.

The logo for the dress store where she’d bought the blue one stared up at her from the box. She looked at Wes. He shrugged but that new look was still heavy in his gaze. Her heartbeat short-circuited, going wonky as she slipped the lid off. Like a pogo stick gone rogue in her chest, her heart bounced around as she touched her fingers reverently to the glossy silk of the black dress she’d loved. Tears filled her gaze and she looked up at Wes, emotions tangling. Lines blurring.

“What did you do?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What is that?” One side of his mouth quirked up.

She glared at him, opening her eyes wide in an attempt not to cry. She stood, set the box down, and lifted the dress, held it against her towel-clad body.

“Wes.” Her voice came out rough.

His gaze met hers and she lost her breath.

“That’s pretty. Looks familiar. You should wear that tonight.”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I can’t accept this.”

He lifted his hands, came over to the bed, rooted around in the box. “Hmm. I don’t see a tag or a card. I guess you could just return it to the store.” He checked his watch. “Probably closes soon. We don’t really have time to do that before the party.”

“Wes,” she said, her tone sharper.

He looked at her, his expression one of complete innocence.

“Why did you do this?” She stepped toward him, the dress between them.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said again, his voice wavering just a touch.

She reached up, touched her hand to his clean-shaven jaw. It was smooth, soft. Strong. He wasn’t going to admit it.

“You should get dressed,” he whispered. He closed his eyes for just a second, leaned into her hand. She wanted to step closer, run her hand around the back of his neck.

She started to say something—she didn’t know what—but when he opened his eyes, he stepped back.

“We can figure out the dress mystery later.”

She gave a watery laugh, lowered her hand. “Sure.”

Leaving him there, she went to the bathroom and put on the dress. Smoothing it over her hips, she looked in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the bathroom door. She felt … regal. Clothes didn’t make a person. But damn, it was pretty. She snapped a picture, sent it to Piper and Fiona.

When she joined Wes, he was looking at a Cosmo magazine, leaning against the back of her couch.

She cleared her throat and he tossed the magazine from his hand. It went flitting across the coffee table, nearly slipping off the edge.

Hailey laughed loudly. “You look like you just got caught with porn by your mother.” She couldn’t stop laughing.