Page 94 of Never Sleep with the Enemy

“A-ha!” She lifts a tube of lipstick triumphantly, grinning at me in the mirror. “Iknewyou had to have something red.”

She sets it beside my usual eyeshadow palettes and mascara, then turns to me with an expectant look.

“What are you doing?” I ask, more curious than annoyed.

She smirks. “I made you something.”

“What?”

Tesla gestures toward the garment bag hanging on the back of my bathroom door. “Now,” she says, unzipping it, “this might feel unlike your style at first, but do me a solid and just trust me.”

She opens the bag with a flourish, revealing a dress.

The bodice is a black corset, laced with ribbons of deep jade green, cinching tight to sculpt curves I rarely think about. The skirt is short, flirty, made of deep green velvet—a fabric I instantly recognize from the dress she snatched off the rack for me at the thrift store.

I gasp. “Tesla, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s yours.”

“Mine?” I hesitate, glancing at the short hem. “Oh, I don’t?—”

“I told you to trust me, remember?” Tesla slides the dress from the bag and holds it up. “You’re going toslayin this thing, babe. Guarantee it.”

I take it from her carefully, holding it against my body, but I can’t quite picture myself in it. I’ve never worn anything like it before.

And deep down, a tiny voice—a voice shaped by years of rules and restrictions—whispers that Ishouldn’t.

“It’s beautiful, Tesla,” I say again. “But…”

“But what?” she asks, tilting her head.

I lower the dress, smoothing the soft velvet against my arm. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you guys being so nice to me?”

Tesla blinks, then laughs. “Whywouldn’twe be nice to you? Because you’re in Criminal Records?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Honey, weloveCriminal Records!” She rolls her eyes like I’m clueless. “I damn near broke my index finger a few years ago trying to playPower Play. Your girl Addison is amonster!And Goldie?” She grins, lowering her voice. “Don’t even get her started on Bronson’s drum solo inHoller at the Back—unless you wanna hold her foot down all night ‘cause she won’t stop tapping it.”

I stare, taken aback.

“Even Logan humsDown Down Babysometimes when he thinks no one’s listening.” She shrugs. “Weloveyou guys. Sure, Logan’s got his beef, but that’s just pride. All men got weird hang-ups about pride. But real respect? That’s where it’s at. And werespectyou.”

I exhale a laugh, some of the tension in my chest unwinding. “Wow.”

She tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear; her gaze turning softer. “And… Logan likes you. And we like Logan. We want Logan to be happy. Andyou… you make him happy.”

My breath catches. “I do?”

“Very.” Tesla grins. “Now, put on the damn dress.”

I step out of my bedroom twenty minutes later in a pair of jet-black heels I haven’t worn in a year. My fingertips graze the flared velvet skirt as I move, hyper-aware of the corset cinching me in, shifting my posture, sculpting me into something…different.

Beautiful. Strong.

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