I check the mirror and decide she’s half right, but my face and hair still look dull and lifeless. Without warning, Jessie is coming at me with a mascara wand, and I back up against the sink, a little nervous. “Relax, I got it out of your make-up bag on the counter. I’m just going to help you rock it out a little,” she says, biting the tip of her tongue while she concentrates.
For the next ten minutes, Jessie powders, circles, and smudges around my eyes, finishing with a touch of gloss on my lips. Before she lets me turn around, she pushes my head down between my knees and brushes out my waves with her fingers, roughing up my hair at my scalp.
“There. Okay, flip it back up and check yourself out, mama,” she says, proud of herself.
I turn around and can’t believe the vision that greets me—I’m not sure I look like myself, but I like the person that I see. “Wow,” I say, turning around some to see the back of the dress and my hair. “You’re, like, a ninja make-up warrior.”
Jessie laughs so hard she snorts, then she covers her mouth, embarrassed by her noise. I laugh with her, until I hear a soft knock at my door. I know it’s Cody—and suddenly, I’m not so sure I want him to see me. I’m thinking about diving under the covers on the bed and feigning ill when he creaks the door open, his hand over his eyes.
“You decent, Charlie?” he asks. I can smell his scent from across the room—like the embrace of a warm outdoor fire. He must have taken a shower before he came to pick me up, because his hair’s still wet. He’s wearing the same black thermal that he was during class, but it suddenly seems ten times sexier. The sleeves are pushed to his elbows, showing off his tats and leather bands. His jeans are straight-cut, hugging his thighs and showing off just how strong he is.
I realize it too late, but I’m licking my lips as I look at him. I cough to regain my composure and elbow Jessie, who’s now outright laughing at me. “Yeah, I’m decent,” I say, rolling my eyes. I walk closer to him and reach for my purse, which is lying on the bed. I stop long enough to catch Cody’s first reaction, though, and it fills my body with a rush, my heart pounding out of my chest from the way he’s looking at me.
It’s desire.
I decide not to interrupt it, and I turn to thank Jessie, and then pull my purse strap over my shoulder before turning back to Cody. “Well, you ready? We better go so we’re not late,” I say.
His eyes stay on me while he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys. As I walk by him, I let my shoulder graze across his chest, just barely, and I swear he breathes me in.
Jessie comes downstairs with us and gives me a quick wink at the door before leaning in for a whisper. “Tell him,” she says.
I smile with tight lips and head to Cody’s truck. He’s only a few steps behind me, and in my inner fantasy, he’s following me to my door so he can turn me around, push me against the cold metal, and kiss me. But I get in and pull the door closed behind me without as much as a touch of his hand.
Cody’s standing outside, his hand on his door handle, looking at me through the glass—staring at me with the same wanting he was upstairs, and I can’t look away. I can’t look away, because I want him to want me—because I want him. But just like the damned glass between us now, there’s a barrier between us every minute I’m with him, no matter how close we get.
It’s like he comes to the same realization I do, and he quickly looks down at his feet and opens the door. When his eyes meet mine again, the hunger in them is gone, replaced by the same guarded friendliness he’s been showing me for days. I can’t deny my disappointment, and I instantly feel stupid in Jessie’s boots, with my stupid smoky eyes and hair.
We drive for about ten minutes before a word is spoken, but when Cody asks me—I instantly wish for the silence to come back. No, I beg for it.
“So…tell him what?” Cody asks.
I pretend I have no idea what he means, just turning my head to the side and shrugging
“Jessie said ‘Tell him.’ I heard her. Tell him what?” he won’t look at me when he speaks, and his face is serious. For a split second, I think about doing what she said. I could tell him that I’m terrified about marrying Trevor…that I think I was wrong to say yes, and that I can’t stop thinking about him…and I think I might be falling for him. But then I fast-forward to how hurt and angry Trevor would be, and how he’d blame Cody for everything.
So I lie.
“I was asking her for advice on something with Trevor. Just something girly and silly,” I say, brushing it off and putting on the performance of my life. Cody’s face falls the moment I’m done talking, and he stops breathing. I can see his jaw tense through his cheeks, and when he turns to check his side mirror, I swear his eyes are wet. But he puts on his mask quickly and turns back to look at me for a second with the safe smile.