Page 117 of Vying Girls
‘Nah.’ I force myself to relax back on the chair, resting an ankle on my knee. ‘Leave her.’
‘You going out afterwards?’
‘Nope.’
‘Not to the Vaults?’
I swing my eyes to Haz’s, levelling her look with one of my own. ‘I just said we’re not going out.’
She nods. ‘Good. Fucking right.’
I sigh again, thinking that might be less detrimental than spending a few hours in close proximity to Tilda. I’ve had a word with myself, countless actually. Just for a day, one fucking day, I’m going to try and block the rest of it out.
It’s nearly nine now; the day’s practically over. We’ve had lunch and opened presents and eaten the cake Elly managed to ship over from the mainland. We’ve done okay, but we also weren’t alone. Haz and Elly are as good a buffer as any. The real test starts now.
I hear her on the landing, the sound of a door closing. Then she’s padding down the stairs, black velvet whispering against her legs. I straighten up as she comes into view, eager to see her in my offering.
‘Ho-lyfuck.’ Haz sits forward, running her tongue over her lips. ‘Where the hell have you been hiding that?’
Tilda smooths her hands down her hips, darting a look my way. ‘Nic got me it.’
Haz smirks over at me. ‘Did she now? Impeccable taste all round.’
I look away, watching Elly reach out to pull Tilda towards her. She says something I can’t make out, Tilda chuckling in response.
‘Don’t think I’ve got another in me,’ Tilda murmurs, making it obvious what it is they’re whispering about.
I let out a silent huff. They’ve been fucking all damn day.
Tilda looks at me again, her face as wary as it is eager. ‘You ready?’
I nod, standing up. ‘Looks like it fits,’ I say uselessly, swallowing against the urge to say more.
I’m pushing it down, the attraction, the pull, the thrumming in my blood at the sight of her. The dress fits like a glove. Doubt it would be anything she’d choose herself, but at least I went with black. With her tattoos and piercings and tiny dagger necklace, she’s a heady mix of alternative and elegant.
She smiles. ‘Perfect fit.’ Her eyes skitter over me. ‘You look ace. Love that suit.’
‘Thanks.’ I look at my watch, at the clock on the wall. Anywhere but at her. ‘Ready to head?’
‘Dunno. Gonna tell me where we’re going?’
‘Just a meal. I told you.’
‘You told me literally nothing. But yeah, I’m ready.’
‘Enjoy your date, kids,’ Haz calls.
I gesture Tilda through to the kitchen, leaving Haz chortling behind us.
Tilda fiddles with a strappy bag, tucking her phone inside. ‘I’ve only got my Docs. I cleaned them, but—hope they’re okay.’
‘They’re fine.’ I offer her a small smile, tucking my own phone into my pocket. ‘I won’t let them kick you out.’
‘I can take that, if you want.’ She holds out a hand. ‘It’ll fit in my bag.’
I hesitate before handing it over, feeling more significance in that small act than in inviting her out with me at all.
‘Alright,’ she says, drawing in a breath. ‘Let’s go do legacy shit.’
