Chapter 136

Ella

“Aren’t you going to try it on?”

Logan cocked his head as he looked back and forth between me and the dress. He was right; normally, I would try something like this on before I bought it. But right now, I just wanted to leave. His statement about his vacation in the tropics had left me reeling and disgusted, and I didn’t want to spend any more time with him than what was absolutely necessary right now.

“There’s no need to try it on,” I insisted, clutching the blue dress closer to my chest. The fabric felt soft, a stark contrast to the rough exterior I was putting up to protect myself against Logan’s presence. “I know my size.”

Logan eyed the dress, then looked back at me. “C’mon, Ella. You should try it on first. I’ll wait for you.”

I felt a wave of exasperation rise within me. “Really, Logan, it’s fine. I know my own body, thanks.” My mind was racing, my thoughts tangled in a knot of annoyance and disappointment.

This shopping trip had devolved into something far removed from what I had hoped for. In a naive sort of way, I had hoped that Logan and I would find a way to make up at least a little bit, that we could begin to tear down the walls we had put up.

I missed him, and I had thought he was missing me during these past two weeks, two. But while I was sitting up at night thinking about him, thinking about my mistakes and how I could have been better, he was letting hot women fawn over him at the beach? And probably doing more than just letting them fawn over him?

Even the thought of it made my wolf stir in angst for a split second. And now, all I wanted was to purchase this dress and get the hell out of here. If it didn’t fit, I would come back and return it—without Logan hovering over my shoulder.

He leaned against a nearby rack of clothes, his arms crossed. “Ella, just try the damn thing on. What’s the big deal?”

I groaned, realizing that I was fighting a losing battle. “Fine.”

Stomping over to the fitting room, I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might pop out. “Just get this over with,” I thought to myself as I pulled open the curtain to the fitting room. “Then I can go home and not have to see him until the ‘engagement’ party. At least I know now that there’s no point in pining away for him.”

Once inside, I slipped off my clothes and stepped into the dress. I looked at my reflection, and for a moment, my worries melted away.

The dress looked good. No, more than good—it was as if it were made just for me, the color complimenting my skin tone, the fit snug yet comfortable. The velvety fabric was perfect for the cool weather we had been having, with the thin straps allowing me to breathe. I liked the way that it hugged my hips, too.

“Perfect,” I murmured to myself, turning this way and that in the mirror. “Now I can go home.”

Satisfied, I was about to take it off when Logan’s voice came through the curtain. “How’s it going? Can I see?”

I felt my eyes narrow, my earlier annoyance returning in full force. “Why? You shouldn’t care how it looks on me. It’d probably look better on one of those ‘hot women’ you were with in the tropics.”

The words came out like an avalanche before I could stop them, leaving me shocked by my own candidness.

Logan sighed audibly, the sound carrying through the thin curtain separating us. “Ella, stop being a brat. Just show me.”

His words grated on me. Brat? After what he had just told me, he was calling me a brat as if I wasn’t a fully-grown woman?

“No,” I hissed. “I’m not showing you. And I’m not a brat.”

He sighed again. “Ella, come on. I want to see.”

With a huff, I slid the curtain aside and walked out of the fitting room, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. “Well? Happy now?” I said, my voice laced with a layer of sarcasm I didn’t even try to hide.

Logan looked me over, his expression curiously blank. “Well, I can’t see much with you folding your arms and slouching like that, can I?”

“So first I’m a brat, and now I’m slouching? Really?” I snapped back, irritated at his criticism. But before I could fire off another retort, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror.

Damn, I was slouching. And pouting like a toddler who had just dropped her ice cream on the ground. I sighed and straightened up, dropping my arms to my sides.

“There.”

Logan’s gaze swept over me again. “Much better.” For a split second, I thought I saw his cheeks redden. But then he cleared his throat, looked away, and mumbled a response. “Looks good on you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Just good? Anything else?”

He shot me a look, half-grinning in that oh-so-Logan sort of way that, despite my anger, I couldn’t deny missing over the past two weeks. “I said what I said. Don’t fish for compliments.”

“Fine. I’ll get this one, then,” I quipped, fidgeting with the strap of the dress.

Before Logan could respond, he was interrupted by a notification on his phone. He glanced at it and grimaced. “I have to take this. Sorry.”

“Go ahead,” I said, a little relieved for the interruption. It provided a much-needed break from the emotional gymnastics of the past few minutes.

While he stepped aside to attend to his call, I turned back to the mirror. I scrutinized the dress, then myself in it. It was a beautiful dress; there was no question about that. But it wasn’t so much the dress that bothered me, but rather the event that I would be wearing it to.

A fake engagement party with a man who I couldn’t get along with, no matter how much it hurt. How exciting.

“Looks like someone’s lost in thought,” said a female voice from behind me. It was the sales attendant, who had been busy folding clothes on the other side of the floor until now. She approached with a knowing smile.

“I guess you could say that,” I answered, feeling slightly awkward.

“First date? Anniversary? Or is it a ‘just because’ kind of thing?” she inquired, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

“It’s a… um…” I paused, swallowing. “Engagement party,” I finally murmured.

The attendant glanced down at my hand, which had no ring on it. “Oh,” she said, looking back up at me. “Yours, or someone else’s?”

“Someone else’s,” I lied, maybe a little too quickly.

She chuckled. “You don’t seem excited.”

I paused. “I guess I’m not,” I finally found myself saying. “This couple… They’re really complicated. Honestly, I don’t even think it’s a real relationship. They’re a couple of phonies who can’t admit their true feelings for each other.”

The attendant shot me a confused look. I was just as confused as she was, if I was being honest. “If they did admit their feelings, do you think that their relationship would somehow seem more ‘real’ to you?” she finally asked.

I opened my mouth to reply, but no words would come. I closed it again, then looked back at myself in the mirror. The dress did look beautiful on me, but there was no ring on my finger. Logan, the man who was my ‘fiance’, was standing outside the store, talking on the phone. I wondered for a moment if he was discussing business with my father.

“Um… I don’t know,” I finally found myself saying, meeting the attendant’s gaze in the mirror. “Maybe it would be more real somehow. If they would just admit the actual reasons behind why they’re doing all of this, and stop pushing each other away, acting like it’s all just for politics and money.”

The attendant was silent for a few moments. Her eyes followed my gaze to Logan, who was now pacing back and forth in front of the store. A knowing look came across her eyes as she met mine again.

“You know,” she whispered, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial tone, “it’s clear that he really likes you.”