Page 16 of Boyfriend Maintenance

“Let me see, Jake.”

“No, I look ridiculous.”

“Come on, Jake. Let me see. I won't laugh.” She sounds closer now, no longer sitting on the couch.

“No.”

“It probably looks better than you think.” Now she sounds annoyed.

“No one will ever see me like this.” I’m staring at myself in the mirror wondering how I even got to this moment when I see the curtain move.

“Jake, let me see.” Then I see her fingers wrap around the curtain. Turning, I grab her hand. She yelps as I pull her into the tiny dressing room with me.

Once she’s in, I snap the curtain shut behind her.

She stands there staring at me. I let her get her fill. She presses her lips together as she takes me in. Her eyes twitch. When she can’t hold it in anymore, she bursts out laughing. “Oh my god. You look like Doctor Who.” More laughing.

I cross my arms and roll my eyes.

“That’s it. I’m cutting you off. You don’t get to see what I’m working with anymore.”

She calms her laughter and shakes her head. “Nope. You have to show me. I’ll stay in here if I have to.” She mimics my pose and looks adorably annoying being all bossy.

“And I said no,” I push back.

“If I’m paying for this shit, I’m sure as hell going to approve of what I’m buying.” And just like that, I’m fucking turned on. She’s no longer laughing, and her annoyance is palpable.

I lower my tone and take a few steps toward her. “Then I guess you won’t be buying shit today, babe.”

Her arms drop to her sides and she takes a step back, bumping into the wall.

“I’ve tried on more than two dozen outfits and I’m spent. I’m hungry, I’m annoyed, and I’m tired of dressing up in clown clothes.” I move in closer to her. There isn’t much more space between us.

She straightens her shoulders and pushes her hair away from her face. She looks me in the eyes as she says it, but her eyes drop to my mouth. “We have to find something today, or our deal is over and no money for you.”

“Then I guess you won’t have a fake boyfriend.” Now that I’m so damn close to her, I can’t help lifting my hand to snag a wayward strand of her hair. Grasping it between my fingers, I can confirm that it's as soft as I imagined earlier. I twist it around my finger, watching the movement. I turn my attention back to her and find she is watching as well. She lifts her eyes and looks into mine, then back down to my lips. She bites her bottom lip and I lean in. I want to bite that lip and taste it for myself. I’m so close I can feel her breath mix with my own.

“Jake, Emmy? Are you in there? I have more outfits,” Sasha sings. She has perfect timing because I take one last glance at Emmy’s lips, drop her hair, and back away.

Emmy clears her throat, avoids eye contact and pushes out of the dressing room.

“You know what, Sasha, these outfits just aren’t working. Why don’t we go simple? I already have my outfits picked out, why don’t we try to coordinate?” Emmy suggests.

Damn, that was a close one. I don’t know what came over me, but I almost kissed Emmy. There can be none of that. My time with her is business, not pleasure.

“Oh, I can’t believe I never asked you what you were wearing! That’s a wonderful idea.” Sasha plays off the fact that we were just in the dressing room together like it isn’t a big deal. I adjust myself in my pants then remember I’m wearing a fucking Sherlock Holmes costume.

I don’t know whether to be pissed with Emmy or not. Once she told Sasha what she was wearing, it took another twenty minutes, and I had three outfits boxed up and ready to be paid for. Had she started this shopping experience with that, we would have been done in no time.

Emmy seems quiet as she pulls out her credit card. I expect it to be black, or gold—don’t the rich and famous get the good, prestigious cards? But no, hers is green, and looks like just a regular bank card. I don’t think I can handle knowing the final price of the trip, so I turn away and study a display of sunglasses.

While I’m glad we are done shopping, I’m not ready to say goodbye to her yet. Plus, I need to get a read on her mood change. Did the almost kiss piss her off? She seemed fine during the last leg of our outfit adventure.

She grabs the bags off the counter and turns to me. “Here you go, three new outfits. I don’t have my dress for the wedding yet, but we have time to get you something else. Like after the fifth of the month.”

I quirk my head at the last comment but take the clothes. “So, you want to get lunch?”

She shrugs. “I could eat.”

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