Chapter 128
“You can pay me back by trying this on,” he says, pulling out a dress from the rack. It’s black. Sleek. The kind of pretty that makes you nervous to even touch it. “And no complaining.”
I blink at it. It’s beautiful – but not me. More like something Tessa would wear. She has the kind of curves that belong in a dress like that. Me? I’m not so sure.
But I look up at him. He’s holding it out with this quiet sort of faith in his eyes, like he already knows I’ll look good and just. wants me to see it too.
So I take a deep breath, swallow the insecurity threatening to creep in, and nod.
“Okay. But if you like this one, we’ll have to return the rest.”
“That sounds like a promise I can’t keep.”
—
His smile is soft – and dangerous. The kind that makes my knees weak.
I’m in so much trouble.
Then the moment is shattered. “Do you need help trying it on?” The attendant asks and I shake my head quickly.
“No, I’m good.“I take the dress into the fitting room.
In the mirror, I hesitate.
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I slip it on carefully, smoothing it over my hips. It hugs me in places I usually try to hide, fits like it was made just for me.
I stare at my reflection for a long second.
I don’t hate it.
I might even–God, do I like this?
“Emilia?” Liam’s voice floats in from outside. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I call back, trying to sound normal even though I feel like I’m about to walk a red carpet. “Just… surprised.”
“Can I see?”
I pause, heart doing jumping jacks, then slowly push the curtain
open.
And he goes completely still.
No teasing smile. No sarcastic comment. Just… quiet.
He looks at me like I’ve physically knocked the air out of his lungs. His eyes drag over every inch, slow and stunned, until they land on mine again.
And then he whispers it like he doesn’t even mean to say it out loud:
“You’re beautiful.”
My heart stutters.
He steps closer, careful, like I’m something delicate. His fingers. reach for mine, gentle, grounding. “I knew this would look good
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on you,” he says softly. “But I wasn’t ready for this.”
I laugh–soft, breathless. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” His voice dips low, the kind that makes my knees want to give out.
I bite my lip. “Like you want to do something reckless.”
His eyes flick down to my mouth, then back up. “What if I do?”
Before I can come up with something smart–or anything at all— his fingers brush mine. Light at first. Then firmer, tracing up my arms like he’s learning me by touch. One hand slides behind my neck, slow and certain, and he pulls me in.
The kiss steals the air from my lungs.
It’s warm and deep and hungry. The kind that makes the world tilt. His other hand curls around my waist, tugging me flush against him, like he can’t get close enough. He keeps kissing me like it’s the only thing keeping him alive, until he finally pulls back–barely.
His eyes roam over me in the dress, dark and full of heat. He drags his gaze slowly down and back up, like he’s memorising every inch.
“Jesus, Emilia.”
My pulse jumps. “What?”
His thumb brushes my lower lip. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”
I swallow hard, my whole body on fire.
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He leans close, lips grazing my ear. “We’re buying the dress.
And then I’m taking you back to our suite. Try it on for me again there.”
I can’t even hide my grin. “But Liam, we still have an entire day planned.”
Becca’s “reward” for us winning the stupid couple game is an afternoon off the cruise. Lacey called it “cheap,”
“underwhelming,” and “low–effort,” then begged me to buy her a burger ten minutes later. Classic.
It hadn’t taken much to convince Liam that a hot air balloon was the right course of action.
So I hadn’t complained when Liam insisted we stop by the boutique first.
“Just something warmer,” he lied.
Because somehow “something warmer” turned into him attempting to restock my entire closet. Sweaters, jackets, scarves, and that dress that I’m pretty sure belongs in a Vogue.
When I asked what the dress was for, he just smiled and said, “Later.” Then added under his breath, “And preferably where no one else can see you in it.”
Right.
The only thing is, I kinda only discovered my newfound fear of heights when our balloon was in the air.
“Okay, don’t panic,” I say, already panicking, white–knuckling the
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edge of the basket like I can wrestle it back down to Earth. “This
is fine. We’re fine. I’m so fine.”
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