Sure enough, Mom was waiting at the front door, her arms crossed over her chest as the old beater truck rumbled into the driveway. I mumbled a quiet thanks to Reese and climbed out of the cabin. Mom had some choice words, but they fell on deaf ears as I shoved past her.
It took me a good ten minutes just fussing with the special coverage concealer I had picked up at the store to hide my runes. After that, I fixed up my hair, freshened my makeup, and slipped into the incredible champagne colored cocktail dress Mom had chosen. I hated it. She had apparently ordered it with boning built in, and the midsection was corseted with absolutely no give. I was pretty sure it was crushing my internal organs.
A knock registered at the door, and I groaned. “I’ll be down in a sec!”
Another knock.
“For the love of God, what?” I practically pried the door off its hinges, only to be met with striking amber eyes. “Reese?” When he didn’t make a move, I snatched him by the lapels and yanked him inside. “What are you doing? If my mom sees you—”
He just shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I walked right past her. She didn’t even blink.”
“Congratulations,” I groaned, disappearing into the closet. I sifted through the entire shoe collection, and still no luck. Where did I put those blasted heels?
I came back out into the room to scour the floor when my gaze traveled over to the bed. Reese was lying atop it, his upper half propped up by his elbows. The look would have been sexy…if not for the icy glare he returned as his eyes kept traveling over my body.
“What? You don’t like it?” I motioned to the dress, expecting some kind of reaction. A smirk, an eye roll, something. But Reese’s expression remained hardened. I attempted a feeble laugh, but the effort honestly hurt. Surely, this bodice was going to crack a rib cage. “What?”
“You look ridiculous,” he scowled. “And in a great deal of pain.”
“What’s that old saying? ‘If it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t help.’” I sighed, still seeing no give in his temper. “It’s really not that bad. I’ve honestly had to wear worse.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you keep doing this to yourself?” His words bit like a rattle snake. I actually retreated back a step. “I understand that you don’t want to disappoint your mother, but dressing up like some haughty debutante isn’t going to win her affection.”
It was as if he slapped me across the face. “You do what you have to for the people you love.”
“And what has she done for you lately, besides threatening to ship you away?” Reese’s gaze hardened all the more. “It’s no wonder you haven’t said anything about your blood work.”
My breathing hitched, but I pushed past the growing lump in my throat. “She’s one of the elite in this town. As she said, what I do is a reflection on her, and this means a lot to my mom.”
“A party? That’s worth bullying your own daughter over?”
“You don’t get it,” I finally snapped. “What else does my mom have? I haven’t lived with her for most of my adolescent years, her husband spends more time away on business than he does at home, I’m going away to college next year, and she hasn’t had a job in nearly twenty years. She’s lonely. But I see the way her face lights up when people congratulate her on things like this. I don’t want to take that away from her. It’s the only time she’s ever happy anymore.”
He scoffed. “So bragging rights, then? It all makes sense now.”
“What?”
“Everything. Like, for instance, why you don’t have a bedroom,” he clarified, noting my puzzled expression. “Sure, this is a room with a mattress and a closet and a door, but it’s not a bedroom. A real teenager’s bedroom has posters and movies and collages of your friends. The whole house looks like something right out of a luxury designer’s catalog. It’s fancy, but not the least bit inviting.”
“That’s not true.”
“Really?” He motioned overhead. “What the hell is that?”
“A…light.”
“It’s a chandelier. And not an inexpensive one, I gather.”
I could feel my cheeks blushing, but why? “Just because you have an apparent allergy to nice things doesn’t make them cold. I happen to like my room.”
“Tell me, what makes this different from the guest bedroom we stayed in last night?”
I opened my mouth, but I didn’t have a rebuttal. Instead, I pushed past him and headed over to the dresser, rummaging through my jewelry box in search of the earrings Mom had told me to wear.