Chapter 72 72.Dress
Tabitha’s POV
“Here, let me help you…” he says and takes my foot, cradling it on his knee to take care of the straps.
A shiver slips down my spine before I can stop it. My hand hangs midair as his fingers close around my ankle. Jace’s skin feels warm against mine, rougher than I expected. I should tell him I can manage, but the words don’t come out. My thoughts scatter, replaced by the steady drag of his thumb as he undoes the strap.
“Oh boy…” Evelyn groans dramatically beside. “Unbelievable. My brother won’t even give me the last pizza slice, and here’s your stepbrother, helping you put on shoes.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “D-Don’t be deceived! He’s not always this nice.”
Jace smirks, glancing up at me. “I can say the same thing to you, stepsis. You can be a bit naughty at times.”
“Not that I’m complaining. I like it when you get all proper in front of them, and wicked when it’s just us.” His voice whispers in my mind.
Damn it, he’s playing with me again with that mindlink thing! And right in front of an audience! I warily glance at Evelyn who looks blissfully oblivious of the flirtatious undertone with Jace’s shameless words. She just looks genuinely amused.
I grit my teeth and my lips quiver as I give Jace a warning smile. “Save the commentary later. You have a shoe to untangle, Jace.”
Jace only laughs as he removes the complicated strap on the hills I currently have on. It takes a lot of effort to stop myself from enjoying his rough fingers against my needy skin. I don’t have a foot fetish damn it! I should pull myself together.
“To be honest, I didn’t expect that I will see the day that the Aldair brothers will have a stepsister and that the said stepsister will have you on your knees… literally,” Evelyn teases. And I debate whether I should scold her or not.
“What can I say? She has a way of making us do things we normally wouldn’t,” Jace says and the man has the nerve to wink at me.
I suddenly have the urge to grab something—preferably my shoe box—and shove it down his throat to make me shut up.
I clear my throat instead. “Rhett’s a decent brother too, you know. He even picked you up from school the other day.”
“I was just kidding.” Evelyn snickers while slipping into another pair of heels. “Rhett can be a grumpy old man sometimes, but he’s nice when he wants to be—don’t tell him I said that! And he’ll just grumble when he learns that I’m talking shit about him behind his back.”
“I don’t know,” Jace says, standing up after putting on the new pair of heels on me. “It’s fun to mess with him. Watching him crack that stoic face is satisfying.”
Evelyn laughs. “You might not want to try that now. He’s been busy preparing for the Circuit. I swear he’ll breathe fire to anyone who’ll try to mess with him before D day.”
“Oh? Rhett’s joining the circuit too?” I ask, surprised.
Evelyn nods. “Of course. He’s been a regular since the first Circuit four years ago. He always gets a podium finish—but never the gold though. That’s why he’s hungrier than ever to win the whole thing this year.”
Jace chuckles. “Sorry, but Reed isn’t showing mercy to anyone this year—not even to Luca. Reed’s won twice, and he’s dead set on keeping that title. Luca’s the only one who might give him a hard time now that he’s back in the game.”
Evelyn snorts and waves at one of the attendants. “Please. You’re forgetting someone who could easily take that trophy away from your competitive brother.”
I frown. “Who?”
“Arthur!” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Duh. He won last year’s Circuit, his second one, too. He and Reed both have two titles, so this year will decide who’s the best. And I doubt Arthur’s going to hand it over easily.”
I carefully glance at Jace and as expected, his expression darkens at the mention of Arthur, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. It’s weird how I can smell the anger emanating from him.
“Well… the good thing about the Circuit is that no one needs mercy. They thrive in the chaos of the track. So Arthur can be as ruthless as he wants,” Jace declares firmly. “Won’t change the fact that he’ll be chasing someone’s tail by the third lap.”
“Bold statement. I guess we’ll just have to see who’s gonna win.” Evelyn grins and raises a glass of champagne that one of the staff had brought over. “May the best brother win.”
I clink glasses with her, though my movements feel slower than hers, my mind still stuck on Jace’s tone. He sounds almost hopeful that Arthur is gonna end up eating dust. Poor dude.
A few minutes later, Evelyn starts moving along the row of mannequins. Her fingers brush over sequined sleeves and satin folds until she suddenly stops.
“Oh, wait…” She snaps her fingers, a bright smile tugging at her lips. “I think we haven’t tried this one yet, have we?” She points to a burgundy dress draped on a mannequin near the corner. “This color would look incredible on you, Tabi. Try it on! It’ll go perfectly with those heels you’re wearing.”
I hesitate for a moment, I’ve tried heaven knows how many dresses already, after all. But Evelyn’s excitement is infectious. I sigh, finally giving in. “All right, all right.”
She squeals softly in victory as I take the dress from her and make my way to the private fitting room.
Inside the fitting room, I carefully slip the burgundy dress off its hanger. Huh, this one is quite pretty. Although the fabric looks heavier than the others I have tried before. It has smooth satin with a deep slit and a snug waist. I ease it over my hips and pull it up until it hugs my ribs, but the cut is tighter than I expected. I twist slightly, trying to smooth the folds, when my heel catches on the hem.
“Oh… shit.”
The fabric tugs sharply. I shift my foot, but the ankle strap locks tight against the dress. When I try to free it, the motion only drags the skirt lower and twists the slit around my thigh. My balance falters. One leg is bent awkwardly behind me, heel hooked in the fabric, while the other strains to keep me upright.
Slightly panicking, I try to untangle myself without ripping anything. This is so embarrassing. I can’t even let this day end without doing something clumsily stupid.
“Ugh, this angle is killing me,” I grumble under my breath when I feel the ache in my waist from the awkward stretch of my leg.
I have to grab the wall to stop from falling. The skirt bunches awkwardly around my free knee, and one wrong move could tear the seam. Evelyn’s voice drifts faintly from the corridor before fading altogether. For a moment, I am tempted to scream for help but I prefer to keep my digity intact. I already look like a doofus, I don’t need an audience.
I just have to untangle my ankle somehow… ah damn it!
I try one last time to pull the fabric over the heel, but it won’t budge. My fingers slip. I sigh, heat rising up my neck. If I call for help, I’ll die of embarrassment. So I keep struggling, quietly, pretending this is still salvageable.
A knock on the door makes me halt. “Tabi?”
The voice isn’t Evelyn’s.
“Jace?” I manage.
“You’ve been in there for a while. You stuck or something?”
I go still. “N-No…”
“Then open up.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Suit yourself.” The handle clicks anyway and the thin door swings open before I can stop it.
“Jace—!”
He steps inside before I can cover myself. He closes the door behind him as his eyes drop to where I’m tangled between fabric and heel, half crouched and completely helpless.
“Well,” he says, sounding amused, “you weren’t kidding about being fine.”
“Get out.” I grit out.
As if not hearing anything, Jace walks forward instead and crouches in front of me. All the alarm bells blares inside my head as he inches closer. And I’m not sure if it’s because of panic or excitement.
“Jace, get out! What if someone sees you in here? Evelyn’s right outside—”
“She’s not, okay? Relax. She stepped out to take a phone call. She’s outside the store.” Jace takes another step forward. “Let me help you…”
“Jace—”
“Lift your leg a little,” he murmurs, his hand brushing against my calf. “You’ll rip the fabric if you keep tugging like that.”
“I can handle it!” I hiss under my breath, trying to ignore the intoxicating proximity of his presence.
“Doesn’t look like it.”
He slides a hand along the fabric, finding where the strap’s caught. I hold still, breath shallow as he works the snag free. His fingers brush my ankle—barely a touch, but enough to make my body buzz in shameless pleasure.
The dress loosens, and the heel finally slips free from the tangled hem. The sudden release makes me stumble a step forward, catching myself against the wall as the fabric falls back into place around my legs. I expect him to step back after that, but he doesn’t. His gaze and touch lingers on my skin.
“See? Easy,” he says quietly while his palm rests on my waist.
He is too close, his lips too dangerously tempting to ignore.