The Arrangement Anthology 1(109)

The salesgirl hangs my items in a room and leaves. Marty finds a chair and sits down across from my changing room. “Okay, show me the blue one first.”

That’s the set he picked out. It’s also the one with the most coverage. No problem, although I know Black will shoot down the bottoms. I have to show off my ass from now on. I’m not a virgin anymore.

I slip out of my clothes and pull on a blue satin set. It is pretty, but it’s too plain for this. I crack the door and call Marty over. He slips into the dressing room with me. “Turn around, let me see.” Marty nods as he rubs his chin. “It’s too old school for this, but it is pretty.”

I look at my hips in the mirror. Old school is right. The boobs are kind of pointy. I laugh. “I look like Marilyn Monroe.”

“If they were just a bit pointier, I would have said Madonna.”

“Okay, this one is out.”

Marty cracks the door to step outside. I glance over his shoulder and see a familiar face standing in the store just outside the dressing room. Bright blue eyes catch my gaze. My heart hammers harder.

Sean.

He holds my gaze for a moment and then blinks like he didn’t just see Marty come out of my dressing room. Marty doesn’t notice him, and I don’t want him to. I try to get rid of Marty quickly. The last thing I want is the two of them fighting back here, and since they both seem to hate each other, it’s pretty much a sure thing.

“Marty, would you mind heading to the second floor to scout out a dress? I’m pretty sure I’m going to want the red panty set and I’m not showing you my ass.”

He chuckles. “Sure, babe. What color?”

“Red.” I blurt it out and shut the door. Marty’s feet disappear from sight. I lean against the door. My shoulders tense as I listen for the altercation, but it doesn’t come.

I sigh and push off the door. I don’t know where Sean went, but at least he had the decency to not make a scene. It probably looked like Marty was doing me in the dressing room. My cheeks burn. I wouldn’t want anyone to think that. Then, I realize that everyone probably thinks that. I’m so slow. I palm my face and shake my head.

Damn it. I’m so stupid. I guess it doesn’t matter, but I don’t want word getting back to Black that I was doing some guy in the dressing room. I need to keep my personal life separate. I wonder if that’s possible as I slip out of the panty set and try on another.

I turn and glance at my hips and then my butt. My boobs look okay, but I don’t like it. I try on the last two normal sets of lingerie. I stare at myself in the mirror wondering if it matters what I wear. Who cares if I like it or not?

I glance at the red set still hanging on the wall.

I slip out of my clothes and reach for it. I step into the string bottoms and tie a bow at my hip.

Seriously? A string doesn’t change the fact that this is commando. The guy is going to get an eyeful as soon as I’m out of my dress. As I’m taking the top off the hanger, the door creaks opens slowly.

“I’m in here.” I can’t decide if I should cover myself or stop the door. My hands wave around like I’m dancing and Sean slips into the room.

“I know.” The grin on his face is so wide. I twitch and cover my breasts with my arm. When I catch myself in the mirror, I groan.

He smirks. “You look like you could use some help.”

“I don’t need your help. Go away.” I want to push him out the door, but then I’d have to flash my boobs at him and I don’t want to. “Scat.”

“Scat? Seriously? You’re going to throw me out, but you let him in?” Sean’s tone is light, playful. He glances around the room and walks over to the things that I’ve already tried on. They are in a pile on the padded bench against the wall.

“He’s gay—”

“Keep telling yourself that—”

“Oh my god. You are unbelievable. You’re jealous of a gay guy.” I tilt my head to the side and give him my best are-you-fucking-serious face, but I’m naked—so he laughs.

“Damn, you’re cute.” Sean takes the red bra from where I dropped it on the floor and looks at it. “I’m not jealous. I just don’t like liars and I don’t want anyone to hurt you. Turn around.”

“Sean—” I try to protest but he turns me toward the mirror. I don’t drop my arm.

“I’ve already seen and had them, Avery. Drop your arm.” Sean is standing behind me with the bra in his hands. I’m stubborn. I feel my spine straightening. I don’t want to do it. I don’t want him here, but part of me does. Part of me likes this. Part of me is obviously defective.