Page 76 of Say You Remember Me
“Maddie?” Ian’s voice came from outside just as I was trying to figure out how many months of salary I’d need to pay for this. “Everything okay in there?”
“Uh…I—” I hesitated, not knowing what to do. But since I literally couldn’t get out of this dress without ruining it further, I said, “I think the zipper’s stuck.”
“Come out. I’ll see if I can fix it.”
I checked my reflection to make sure I was decent before stepping out.
Ian’s gaze swept over me the moment I appeared, his eyes sharpening as they took in the dress. But he didn’t say anything about that. Instead, he stepped forward, his expression shifting to concern as he examined the back of the gown.
I turned slightly, giving him a better view of my back, acutely aware of the gown’s zipper caught halfway up, probably revealing too much of my lacy maroon bra.
I hardly ever wore sexy underwear. But of course, on the one day I had, my boss had to see it.
Hopefully, he didn’t think I’d worn it with the intent to seduce him later.
The silence between us stretched, charged, as I felt his gaze settle on me. The heat of his nearness radiated like a quiet hum.
“It looks like it got stuck on this,” he murmured as his fingers tugged gently on my bra, his voice soft, almost intimate.
“Yeah?” I managed to say, my throat suddenly dry.
“Yeah…” And when he moved closer, my breath hitched—the air around us seeming to thicken.
His fingers grazed my back lightly, warm and deliberate against the fabric of the gown. I could feel every point of contact. As if his touch carried a quiet electricity, surging through the thin barrier between his skin and mine.
“Hold still,” he said, his tone low and intimate, a quiet command that made my pulse race.
His knuckles brushed the curve of my spine as he gently tugged at the zipper, and I couldn’t stop the shiver that raced through me.
Why did this feel so good? So intimate—every second stretching as his careful movements drew out a tension I couldn’t ignore.
My heart raced, thundering loud in my ears, and I was sure he could hear it. I stared straight ahead, forcing myself to breathe as the delicate pull of the zipper eased higher.
“Got it,” he said, the words barely louder than a whisper. His voice was deeper now, softer, and instead of stepping back, he stayed close. His hand lingered at the base of my back, warm and steady, as if he wasn’t quite ready to break the contact.
I turned slowly to face him, clutching the fabric at my waist to keep my hands from trembling. His eyes locked onto mine, darkand unreadable, and for a moment, it felt like the fitting room melted away. The world narrowed to just us.
“That dress,” he said, his voice reverent, his gaze sweeping over me like a caress. “It’s perfect. Like it was made for you.”
The sincerity in his tone made my chest tighten, and I struggled to find words. “Y-you really think so?”
His brow furrowed slightly, as though my question didn’t make sense to him. “Maddie,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle, “how could I not?”
The words hit me harder than I expected, striking something deep and vulnerable inside me. After years of feeling like I wasn’t enough, of being overlooked or left behind, hearing Ian say those words—seeing the way he looked at me—unraveled something tightly wound in my chest. It was as though he was trying to tell me that I was someone worth noticing. Someone worth more than I’d ever believed.
Before I could respond, he gently turned me toward the mirror, his hands steady on my shoulders. My reflection stared back at me, draped in the shimmering gown that hugged every curve. His hand drifted higher, brushing a stray curl from my shoulder, the light graze of his fingers sending a quiet hum through me.
“What do you think?” he asked, his voice soft but weighted with something I couldn’t quite name. “Do you like it?”
I swallowed hard, staring at the woman in the mirror who didn’t quite feel like me but who, for the first time, looked like someone who could be…enough.
“I love it,” I admitted, the words quiet but honest.
“Good.” His gaze met mine in the mirror, his expression warm, almost proud. “Because you look incredible.”
“You don’t think I look…like an imposter?” I turned my head slightly, catching his eye. “Like someone who doesn’t belong in a dress like this?”
His expression softened, but the intensity in his gaze didn’t waver. “No, Maddie,” he said, his voice steady and full of conviction. “You don’t look like an imposter. You look beautiful. Like you’re much too good for the likes of me.”
