Page 142 of Go Find Less
“I’ll be out in a second, stay there!” I stand, slipping off the robe and setting it on the bench I’d just been occupying. I smooth a hand down the front of my dress, adjusting the hemline at my bodice. “How do I look?” It comes out a little more reserved than I’d meant it to, and Carla steps into my room, taking my hands away from where they’d been fidgeting with one of the lace pieces on the sleeve.
“You look gorgeous, P. Seriously.” She adjusts a curl across my chest, big and bouncy in a way I haven’t had my hair in years. Then, she turns, gesturing toward the doorway. “Now go get your man.” I take a steadying breath, heading toward the doorway, when her hand collides with my ass through the layers of my skirt.
“Hey!” I cry, moving to protect myself. “Rude.” She just laughs, pushing through the door before me. I follow her out, peeking around the corner to see Fitz standing in my entryway, clasping a bouquet of white flowers like it’s a lifeline. I step around the wall to get a better look, and he meets my eyes, grinning before his gaze slides down my body. His mouth goes a little slack, and I feel a tentative smile on my face as I give him the same appraising look.
Fitzwilliam Westfall looks like something out of a romance novel fanart. His dark red curls are just long enough to sweep across his forehead, and I see the flush creeping up his neck, which is bobbing as he swallows, his eyes not leaving me. Vic was not kidding - he had handled Fitz, and in the best way, because damn. He’s wearing a black dress shirt with a collar that comes up around his neck on the sides and backs, curving and accented with gold stitching that meets in the front and goes down the seam of the gold buttons. The same pattern dances around the cuffs of his shirt, and I know it’s Vic’s handiwork - I’d recognize it anywhere. With black pants and a pair of black dress shoes, he’s giving the morally gray, dark haired villain vibes even before the look in his eyes goes molten.
Because I know I’ve set a complete trap for this man in front of me - I’ve spent all week talking about how excited I am about this dress, this piece that isn’t totally mine, but is enough to make me feel like I created something beautiful. I feel beautiful, and based on the way Fitz is looking at me, he thinks so too.
I give a girlish giggle, twirling in my kitchen to let him get the full effect. The tight bodice with built-in cups, the way it hugs my waist and highlights my tiniest point while still making my chest look fantastic. The gold tulle that hugs the fabric over the satin bust, coming up on the sides to make long, bell-shaped sleeves just transparent enough that you can see my arms through them. The tulle gathers at my waist, cascading long and full over my legs, but there’s a generous slit up one side that Fitz’s eyes zero in on immediately. The whole thing is accented with cream lace, seed pearls, and rhinestones that match the ones on my cream colored heels. It feels ethereal, and whimsical, and I feel fantastic as Carla wordlessly takes the bouquet of what I now see are tulips from Fitz’s hand. He barely notices her as he reaches for me, pulling me closer but still far enough out that he can appreciate the way I look.
“Piper,” he breathes, and the word sends a shiver down my spine, the same way his mouth on my neck had last weekend. I can tell he’s thinking the same thing, the way his green eyes sharpen, watching my deep gulp. Fitz reaches out, pulling at one of my dark curls, which are tamed and smoothed into soft, gigantic waves and ringlets that read more 50’s glamor than wild electrocuted toddler, which is my normal go-to.
“You like?” I ask, tilting my head to one side, then the other, popping out a hip.
“I love,” he says, and then dips down to kiss me. I smooth a hand up his chest, and my fingers are toying with the neck of his shirt when he pulls back.
“I do too.” He holds an elbow out to me, and I reach toward the counter, picking up my overnight bag and pearl clutch, which I never get to use.
“Ok, Cinderella,” Carla starts, ushering us toward the door. “You two have fun, just don’t stay out too late. We have to be at the park at 8.” I groan, looking back at my roommate. “You signed us up for this, Piper!”
“I didn’t know when I signed up I’d be going to a literal ball the night before.” My voice is whiny, and I gesture to Fitz. “Blame him.”
“Excuse me?” Fitz sounds incredulous, rounding on me, and I laugh. “We can just go back inside right now and I can strip you out-"
“La la la la,” Carla screams, one hand covering an ear as she shoves us out the now open door. “No one's stripping, go do fairy shit, be safe.” And then she shuts the door so fast, it smacks my butt behind me.
Chapter 55
Fitz
Ten Years Ago
Theroomarounduswas dark, modern radio music blasting out of the DJ’s speakers as we bumbled away from the dance floor.
“My feet hurt,” Olivia moaned. I wasn’t surprised. The strappy, silver shoes peeking out from under her lime green dress looked incredibly uncomfortable, and I’d told her that before she bought them.
“Take your shoes off,” I answered simply, and she gave me a look, leaning more heavily into my arm as she held it. Her incredible distaste for feet, even her own, had existed as long as I’d known her, and we were edging on thirteen years of that.
“I’m just ready to get the real party started,” Andy mused from behind us, and I could see him snake an arm around Becca, his date, from over my shoulder. The real party being the not-so-small get-together he’d planned at a property not far from his house, which would be littered with cans and bottles by the morning.
We were finishing the year on a high note - going out with a bang and one final hurrah before we all go our separate ways over the summer. But Andy started pre-gaming before he even put his tux on in the hotel room above us at The Monarch, where our prom was taking place.
“I think it’s started,” Becca muttered, giving Andy a slightly disgusted look as he swayed with her. We weaved between tables, making our way to our own, when behind me, Andy stopped.
“Barton!” Andy barked. Shit. Where Alex went, so did…
I turned on my heels, and Oliva stumbled slightly, catching herself on my other arm as she gave me a glare.
“Don’t you look…good.” I could tell by his tone that it isn’t what he was originally going to say, but Alex’s date, a guy I vaguely recognized from the graduating class before us, is a big dude, and was practically seething as Andy’s eyes scanned over her glitter-speckled chest.
“Fuck off, Andy, go find a cow to tip or something.” Next to her, I saw Vic stifle a laugh with his deep purple jacket sleeve. Seated beside him was Piper, who I didn’t immediately recognize as herself. She looked different. Her normally bright red hair looked darker - maybe she had dyed it for graduation, so it didn’t clash with our hideously orange caps and gowns. It was pulled back on the sides, tendrils hanging by her face. Her tight-topped, deep purple dress matched Vic’s suit, the long sleeves covered in a deep lace, dotted with pearls and rhinestones.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Olivia cackled. She may have pre-gamed a little too hard with Becca as well.
“Yeah,” Andy agreed, and then spotted Piper in front of him. “Piper and I are friends, right, Delmonico?” Her eyes widened.
“Not the time, Andy,” I urged, putting my hand on his forearm, but he shook it off.