Page 16 of Fighting Fate
As my phone buzzes on the desk, I head over to check it, calling behind me, "There's no way I'm wearing that." My dancer's physique might be petite, but, "I'm pretty sure I'd be spilling out of that outfit in all the wrong way," I tell her.
I glance at my phone and see two new messages just as I hear Payson's voice. "That's exactly the point." I shake my head, a little smile tugging at my lips as I open the texts.
Luke
Hey sis, everything good?
Miles
Hey Mills, need any help unpacking? I think I can handle the bra and underwear drawer.
A chuckle escapes me. You'd think things with Miles might've turned weird after that club night, but nope. It actually brought us closer. We chalked it up to too much booze—though, for me, it wasn't just the alcohol. But I didn't want to lose him over something that might mess everything up, including our families' ties.
The best thing was, our friendship didn't skip a beat. The jokes, the laughs—all still there, and that means the world to me.
I respond to Luke first.
Milli
All good over here! How was practice?
Luke
Tough start, but that's the usual drill at the beginning of the season, even after a month. How about grabbing coffee tomorrow? I'd love to hear about your first dance practice.
Milli
Sounds good! Talk to you then! Have a good night. Love you.
Luke
Love you too, sis.
To Miles, I say:
Milli
Haha, very funny. I'll leave the sock drawer to you.
I look again at the outfit Payson's holding out—this lacy crop top with a snug, satin skirt. It's definitely a statement piece, one that'd highlight every curve and edge of my dancer's body. But is this really me? I came here to study, dance, find myself—not to play dress-up.
But then again, what's one night of letting loose?
Miles
HAHA, who's the funny one now? You know I'm more of a lace guy.
Tell me, Baby Sutton, do you have any lacy underwear?
A gentle wave of warmth floods me, but I dismiss it with a chuckle.
"Who's making you laugh over there?" Payson asks, looking at me with a raised eyebrow of interest. However, she jumps in with her assumption before I get a chance to answer. "Let me guess, Miles?" Her tone suggests it couldn't be more apparent.
I just give a noncommittal shrug as she adds, with a hint of sarcasm, "Big surprise there." Choosing to overlook her comment, I turn my attention back to responding to Miles.
Milli
Maybe . . . Maybe not. Buh bye, Sunshine