Page 33 of Feels Like the First Time
Chapter 7
Ali never considered herself a crier. She’d learned that tears could blur reality for a time, but when they vanished, they only made the truth that much clearer. Yet she was one dress away from bursting into tears. Or punching someone.
Hawk would do, since he was the one who’d gotten her into this mess. Unfortunately, he wasn’t around, and since punching Kennedy would be like kicking a puppy, Ali settled on flapping her hands to the side and groaning. She’d seen Bridget and her mom do it a thousand times, but it just didn’t bring the same satisfaction as slamming her fist into something.
“I have the red dress from Fi’s Holiday Hot Buttered Rum-Run Party,” Kennedy said from the bed, where she was sprawled out like they were at some kind of slumber party—and not the most miserable night of Ali’s life. “It would look great with your complexion.”
Ali pulled the excess fabric of her new dress out to the sides and swayed. “Unless I grew six inches and two cup sizes, it would just look…”
“Like you’re playing dress-up?”
Ali spun to face her friend and glared. “I was going to say, it looks a little big.”
Kennedy bit her lip. “More like, pastor’s wife.”
Ali looked down at herself and gave a little twirl. “It’s not that bad.”
“You could hide another person under the skirt. And that cut?” Kennedy made a dramatic gagging sound. “I swear Ms. Bitsy has a hat that would look lovely with it. She wore it to Easter Sunday service.”
“It’s the best one so far,” Ali said, looking at herself in the mirror. The dress was practical, pressed, and perfect for a night of working the bar. “Plus, it’s black, so it will match my boots, hide any food stains I might attract, and piss off Bridget. What more could you ask for in a dress?”
“I don’t know, one that shows off your figure, makes men think about sex.”
Ali plopped on the bed and fell back with a huff. “I could wear pasties and dental floss, but the second Bridget walks in the room, no one will notice I’m there.”
“And by no one, you mean Hawk?” Kennedy guessed.
“Hawk is my beard, nothing more.” Kennedy gave a noise that translated intobullshit.“I’m serious.”
“Okay, then why won’t you wear the pretty green dress in the back of your closet? The one you got on our last girls’ weekend to Seattle that says,Let’s get serious…at my place?”
Because she was afraid that the one man who she’d want to take her up on the offer was still in love with another woman.
Ali covered her eyes with her hands and groaned.
God, when had she becomethatgirl? To be fair, she’d been that girl since the moment she’d heard her dad call Bridget “Daddy’s little princess.” Ali, on the other hand, had always been “Daddy’s little helper.” Not a bad position, since she’d much rather hold a soldering iron than a curling iron, and blending lipstick wasn’t nearly as much fun as blending metal alloys.
But just once it would feel nice to step out of the shadows and enjoy the sun on her skin. Enjoy the attention of a man, knowing that there was no one else he’d rather be with. That she was the first choice.
Not the runner-up.
There had been a moment in the bar yesterday when Hawk had looked at her with something other than friendship. Something that had crackled and sparked and felt so real Ali almost let herself give in to the fantasy.
Then suddenly, Bridget was there. Tall and regal and everything Ali could never be—and reality had crept in. Ali went from being the object of his affection to the amusing little sister with one well-placed bat of Bridget’s long lashes.
“God, why did I agree to this?”
“Because you care about Hawk,” Kennedy said softly. A warm hand covered Ali’s and pulled it away from her face. So Ali closed her eyes. “And he cares about you, too, Ali.”
“I know.” Problem was, she cared more. And Ali knew all too well just what happened when the equation for love was skewed too far in one direction. “He cares for a lot of people.”
“You mean Bridget?” Kennedy guessed.
“Bridget, the blond co-ed from Portland, the bikini model with the fake accent and even faker boobs.” She slowly rolled her head to the side and met her friend’s gaze. “Hawk likes women. Period. I’d just be filling an empty spot in his calendar.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But you won’t know unless you give it a shot.” Kennedy sat up and crossed her legs on the bed. “Women come and go, but have you ever wondered why you’re the only one special enough to keep around?”
Hawk went out of his way to do nice things for Ali. Small things to let her know how special she was to him. The problem with being special was one could only shine so bright before a shinier star came along. And even though guys like Hawk saw the good in everyone, they were still drawn to the light.
