Page 43 of Surprisingly Us

She laughs at my awkward answer. “Okay, so what’s his name?”

“Rhys Spencer.”

Isabella’s eyes go wide. “You’re dating Rhys Spencer?” It’s the shocked expression from before but mixed with confusion.

“Do you know him?” I ask warily.

“Yeah.”

Oh god, now I’m wondering if sheknows himknows him.

“Everyone knows who Rhys Spencer is. He’s one of NYC’s wealthiest bachelors.” She presses her lips together, then continues. “Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t see you two together. He’s a total bad boy and you’re so sweet and wholesome.”

I really should take this opportunity to practice making me and Rhys as a couple believable by telling her how sweet he is and thoughtful and kind, and hot, except that can be observed by anyone with eyeballs, but the reality is with Hannah on her honeymoon, I need someone to talk to about this entire situation.

So, I tell her everything.

“So, you’re not really together.” Isabella nods in understanding. The worry line between her brows fades and her smile returns as if the balance has been restored to the universe. “Okay, that makes more sense.”

“I don’t know what to wear.”

Isabella eyes my choices and promptly wrinkles her nose.

“I don’t like any of those options.” She lifts one of the blouses I brought. “What even is this?”

“You really tried to hold that one in, huh?” I laugh.

“I know.” Her face lights up. “Here.” She pulls a silky slip dress out of her bag.

I frown at the gunmetal gray fabric. “How is that not wrinkled?”

“It’s designed to be wrinkle resistant.”

“Okay.” I hold up the midi-dress by its spaghetti straps. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“You go out on stage in less than this.”

She’s right, but hundreds of faceless people are far less intimidating than Rhys Spencer’s one striking face.It’s just practice, I remind myself and that eases my nerves somewhat.

I strip out of my spandex shorts and cropped tank, then work the silky material down my body.

I lift my hands out to the side. “Well?”

She studies me a moment. “Lose the bra.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s the whole point of the dress. Free the nipples.”

I unclasp my bra and yank it out from under the dress. The silky material settles against my bare skin,ahem, and nipples, causing a tingling sensation.

“I’d suggest that it looks like I’m in a nightgown, but I wouldn’t even wear this to bed, let alone outside the house.”

“You look great. We need to normalize the nipple and utilize its full potential as a fashion statement.”

“Since when are nipples a fashion statement?”

“Since Kate Moss. Everything from the 90s is back.”

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