Unfriended(Love in New Highland Book 1)(47)

She actually stomped her foot. "No. I just don't want them to know about us yet. Not until … " She tapered off and looked away.

"Not until … ?

"Not until we've had a little more time with this."

Aha.

That was an evasion if I ever heard one.

"Karl already knows it's you," I pointed out.

"But he hasn't told the others, you said."

"Aura might mention something." Though in all honesty I doubted my ex  would volunteer the fact that she'd been usurped in my affections.

"I don't think so. I think the best thing is to not say anything and just act normal, like we normally do."

Fuck. Char was in stubborn mode and not budging, no matter how reasonable the argument.

Clearly there was more to this than she admitted.

I leaned back, locked my hands behind my neck, and studied her. She  began to fidget, ripping apart pieces of bacon. I noticed her eyes  flashing down at herself.

The gesture reminded me eerily of Aura.

Her clothes?

There was a clue there. I needed to think like a woman.

Fail.

While we sat there, I texted Joel.



Asher: Why do parties stress out females? 3 top reasons.

Joel: 1-Cleaning before 2-Not enough food 3-Cleaning after

Asher: I meant females who are not hosting the party. i.e., guests.

Joel: There is only one reason. Competition from other females. Everything boils down to that.

Asher: Dude you're brilliant. How did you become so wise?

Joel: ma gran aunts

Joel: sisters cousins in laws nieces

Joel: weddings baptisms birthdays

Joel: reunion      s christmas memorial day

Joel: july 4 labor day easter graduations funerals

Asher: please stop now



I put my phone away and twiddled my thumbs for a minute, thinking. Then I  had a sly thought. "What are you wearing for the party?"

She shrugged.

"Change of plan. We're going shopping," I decreed. "Right now."

She looked startled. "Why?"

"To get you a party dress."

"Oh." She eyed me curiously. "I actually have a party dress."

"You do?"

"I've only worn it to every holiday party for years."

"I can't picture it in my mind."

She crossed her arms, and who could blame her? The Platonic Shutter over  my eyes had really made me blind-for years. I could recall her smiles  and jokes and the things she'd done, and I knew her general style, but  not specific outfits.

"It's fancy, though." She clicked her tongue. "I was just gonna wear  pants." Though she seemed nonchalant, I noticed her biceps clenching.  She was doing her fist thing again.                       
       
           



       

"I'd like to see you in a dress," I said casually.

"You know what, Asher, I've changed my mind. There's an easy solution to all this. We won't go to the party."

"Oh, no, you don't, not this shit. We're going, Sloane. I just have to figure out why you have your panties in a twist."

"It's stupid. They'll fuss no matter what we say, because of your  breakup … " She flattened her lips, staring down at herself again.  "That'll be the real thing on their minds. You and Aura were the big  show. It'll be all about you guys. And if … I don't know, I don't know, I  don't know what my problem is!"

I put down my cup. "Are you worried that Karl and Aura will be there? It's not a sure thing. You know Karl's unpredictable."

She shrugged. "I just don't see the need to draw attention to me when  everyone will be interested in you and Aura. And if Aura's there and  they see her and they see me … oh, never mind."

Aura.

Damn. This wasn't about Charis trying to avoid pointed questions about our girl swap. Or even the age difference.

This was Charis not being secure in her body.

Not wanting to be compared with Aura.

Shit.

Not this again.





CHAPTER 27





One Year Ago-Can You Believe Those People



Charis: PDAs-good, bad, or neutral. PDAs being public displays of affection, not personal digital assistants.

Asher: Good. Wait, no, it depends.

Charis: On?

Asher: Getting arrested is bad. Giving her a thrill is good. Why are you looking at me like that?

Charis: Giving her a thrill? Are we talking about PDAs or public sex? PDAs are just kisses and hugs and stuff.

Asher: Kisses and hugs are public sex.

Charis: What? No, they're not.

Asher: So innocent. So unworldly. You ever kiss a guy in public, Sloane?

Charis: Sure. I mean probably. Maybe. I don't remember.

Asher: When you do, you can talk to me about PDAs. Until then, you know nothing.

Charis: Well what is it then? Spill it, Asher. What's so sexy about embracing in public?

Asher: Use your imagination.

Charis: I have a great imagination, and I can't imagine. PDAs aren't obscene, they're all clean fun.

Asher: Sure about that? You're looking kind of pink there. Well? Nothing to say?

Charis: I'm going to the gym.



Asher



"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU'RE not coming in with me."

"Yes, I am."

Charis stood with her hands akimbo. "I'll have you know nobody has gone into a fitting room with me since the fifth grade."

"Not even your mom? I thought all mothers did that in order to rag on their daughters."

"Not even my mother. I mean it, Ash. I'd like privacy in here."

Charis was practically stomping her foot. I winked at the store clerk,  who smiled slightly at us and withdrew to greet another customer. The  place was getting busy.

"I want to watch you try on your dresses." I pushed Char into the  dressing room, closing the door firmly behind us. "Otherwise you'll  probably start reading the tags and start wondering where they were  imported from and ask the sales lady all kinds of questions and we won't  fucking get out of here till dusk."

"They're not my dresses." She didn't deny the rest, you'll note.

"One of them will be." I prayed it was true. One store was my limit.

"Maybe." She eyed the enormous hanging stack of garments I'd picked out for her.

Yes, that wasn't a typo. I, Asher "Shopping Is My Version of Hell"  Norrell had gone shopping with Charis voluntarily. Hell, I'd initiated  the whole expedition.

After our squabble at breakfast, we'd showered and then taken off. She still protested, but I had a plan.

My reasoning was as follows. Charis had dragged me to watch half a dozen  Cinderella movies over the years. Out of this cruel act one useful  takeaway emerged: babes get wet for party dresses.

We'd get a dress for her to wear tomorrow. It was going to be such an  awesome dress that it wouldn't occur to her to obsess about being  compared with Aura.

Right. Like I had such a great track record controlling the Doubting Mind of a Woman.

Still, there was no denying the magic power of clothing. My sisters still talk about Mel's wedding gown, four years later.

I'd even picked the store. We arrived as it opened its doors. I was  determined to get in and out fast and back in time to receive those  deliveries.

Unfortunately, I knew about these boutiques.

Larch Lady was a favorite of Aura's. Last time I'd sworn nobody could  drag me through the lavender-trimmed doors again. You sat in these  ridiculous carved chairs and were interrupted every five minutes trying  to get some real work done on your phone while your girlfriend looked at  every single item on every single rack.

Aura could literally spend half a dozen hours in here. One time we'd  spent all morning in this hellhole, left for lunch and returned.                       
       
           



       

And all. The chicks. Flirted. It didn't matter that you were actually  accompanying a woman; you got flirted with if you came in with a dick.

Aura isn't alone, either. My sisters are impossible to uproot from these kinds of places.

I thought Charis would be better, but she was equally exasperating, in a  different way. She just stood there gazing around. She seemed  completely lost and out of her element.

Since it looked like nobody else was willing to be the grownup here, I'd  sicced the sales lady on her while I did all the hard work of scouring  for dresses.

I wouldn't say it was entertaining, but interesting, yes. With us guys,  you just plugged in some data-woven shirt, cotton-linen, long sleeves,  blue, chest 46, waist 33-and you got immediate results.

These dresses hanging on the rack, you had to look at every one. They  were colorful blobs to me. I had no idea how they'd look on Charis. In  my world, a dress was something to get off a woman, not on. I wished  Doug or Dad were here. Their superpower was being able to deduce from a  flat shape precisely what it looked like assembled into 3D.

There was a drapey-sleeved semi-transparent something with a wrappy  front. There was a green shiny item missing one shoulder but I don't  think it had been sabotaged, it looked sewn that way. One peachy wisp of  a thing looked like undergarments, so it got my vote. I snatched up a  godawful ugly wrinkly garment that matched her eyes. And on and on.