Chapter 7

TURNS OUT, when Oliver said he had a “few ideas,” he meant some of the most expensive boutiques in the entire city. I feel completely out of place in a sea of high-quality fabrics, surrounded by three men who won’t stop looking at me like I’m their favorite thing in the world.

At the first shop, I grab something comfortable that I can wear for the whole day—including underwear, since I mysteriously couldn’t find mine this morning.

By the time we walk into the second shop, I’m not really sure what the point is. I already have plenty of clothes to get me through the weekend.

But all three of them insist, drowning out my protests with kisses and laughs.

When Elliot hands me a pretty lilac dress, I swallow. It’s just the type of thing I like to wear on hot summer days. But I usually get my dresses from the thrift store near my apartment.

And speaking of my apartment, I’m pretty sure this thing costs as much as my monthly rent, but I can’t find a goddamned price tag on any of these clothes.

“So?” Elliot pushes me toward the dressing room.

“Christ,” I mutter. “I don’t know why I keep speaking my thoughts out loud around you.”

He chuckles. “I think it’s endearing. Now go try it on. I think it’ll look nice on you.”

“You think anything looks nice on her,” Oliver chimes in, following closely behind us. He plops down next to Rhett, who’s lounging on the red leather couch outside the dressing rooms.

Rhett laughs, and I realize Elliot is giving Oliver a death glare. But I disappear into the dressing room and close the curtains before I see what happens next.

I slide out of my new clothes, admiring the softness of the simple v-neck shirt I picked out. When I pull on the dress, I have to smile.

It does look nice.

Getting the zipper up is easy since it’s on the side. I do a little twirl, watching myself in the mirror. It’s the perfect type of dress for a summer picnic.

I imagine myself on a soft blanket in the middle of a park, surrounded by Elliot, Oliver and Rhett. The thought makes me happy. But just as that warm feeling hits me, it turns cold.

“Don’t you dare catch feelings,” I whisper to myself, jabbing a finger at my reflection. I can’t invest my emotions in these three men.

Even if it’s just for a weekend.

Even if they all look at me like they want to keep me.

I just can’t end up with a broken heart again.

I take a deep breath, and the tears building at the backs of my eyes dissipate. My hands run down my sides, and my fingers snag on something at my hips.

I gasp.

“Wren?” I hear Elliot say. “Are you okay?”

I turn, ripping the curtains open with a grin. “It has pockets!”

WE STOP FOR a quick lunch at a small diner. I expect us to head to my apartment next, but when we all pile into the SUV, Elliot takes us in the opposite direction.

“Are we going to another store? You three are wild.”

Oliver is in the front seat, and he turns to give me a wink.

“Just so you’re aware,” Elliot says in a slightly annoyed voice, “this was completely Oliver’s idea.”

Rhett and I both give each other confused glances. I slide my hand onto his lap, and he only tenses for a moment before he covers it with his own.

When Elliot pulls into a parking spot a few minutes later, I only need to glance out at the storefront for a second before I burst into a fit of laughter.

Elliot seems relieved by my reaction, but Rhett still looks uneasy.

Oliver hops out of the car, opening my door and pulling me out. “I wanted to go here first, but someone insisted on getting you real clothes first.” He sticks his tongue out at Elliot.

I can’t help but giggle as we make our way inside. The boutique owner greets us, furrowing her brows at the sight of three men walking in with one woman, but I ignore the look.

“Oooh! I like this one.” Oliver grabs a cute bodysuit from a rack. It’s black, lacy, and—

“Of course you’d go for the boob-less one,” Elliot mutters.

Both he and Rhett look a bit uncomfortable, while Oliver is like a kid in a candy store. Actually, that’s not quite right. I think Rhett might be literally frozen in place by the door.

“Hey,” I say, grabbing his hand and then Elliot’s. “Why don’t you two come with me.” I lead them to the back, where the dressing rooms are. They’re practically in their own room, probably for privacy’s sake, which is nice. “You two stay here, and Oliver and I will do the shopping. But don’t worry, you’ll still get to see everything I try on.”

Rhett lets out a giant breath, pulling me into his arms and kissing me with relief.

“Please don’t force Wren to try on things she doesn’t like,” Elliot says to Oliver in a cautious voice.

Pressing a hand to his chest, Oliver tries to feign a hurt look. “I’d never!”

I raise an eyebrow. “Then put the boob-less one back.”

His face falls. Rhett shoves him toward the front of the store, shaking his head, and Oliver listens without a second glance at me.

Turning to me, Elliot takes my hands in his. “If you get uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to do this—”

I kiss him to shut him up. “Just sit. I’ll be back soon.”

When I head back out front alone, Oliver already has an armful of lacy, colorful lingerie sets.

“To be approved by you, of course. And I put the boob-less one back. I promise.”

With a kiss on his cheek, I say, “I know. I trust you.” And I mean it. Then, looking at everything he has in his hands already, I frown. “This is a lot for one weekend, Oliver.”

His smile wavers, but only for a second. “Well, don’t women like wearing sexy stuff even if no one sees it? For confidence or something like that?”

“Something like that.” I pull a tiny silk robe from a rack, checking the size before tossing it onto Oliver’s pile. He just grins.

Damn. He was dead serious when he said he wants to spoil me.

Fifteen minutes later, Oliver and I head to the back of the store, ignoring the blushing woman behind the checkout counter. Thankfully, no one else is here, so we have free rein of the place.

Elliot gives me a questioning look as Oliver brings everything into one of the dressing rooms. With a thumbs up, I head inside and shoo Oliver out.

It doesn’t take long for me to pull on the first set, a tiny light blue thong and a matching bra that pushes my boobs up. But when I turn to look at myself in the mirror, my stomach turns.

Over the years, I’ve done a lot of work to come to appreciate and love my body. But a lot of that was trashed by the hateful comments Adam would make whenever I dared to show my body when I was bloated or after I ate.

I clench my fists. Food in your stomach is normal, Wren. You’re human. And humans fucking eat.

But Adam’s comments fill my mind, and tears fill my eyes.

They won’t say those kinds of things to you.

They’re different.

. . . But what if they’re not?

“Wren?” Oliver’s voice comes from the other side of the curtains, soft and concerned, and I realize I’m sniffling. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah.” But I can’t even say a single word without my voice breaking.

The curtains open, and Oliver steps inside before shutting them again. He frowns at my tears, and then at my arms hiding my stomach.

For a second, he looks angry. But then he takes a deep breath and tugs me closer to him. “Tell me what’s going through your mind right now.”

I shake my head, looking anywhere but him.

“Are you insecure? Did I get you the wrong size in something?”

I inhale a shuddering breath as more tears fall onto my cheeks. But I just can’t make myself say it. It’s too much, too intimate for a man I can’t let myself get attached to.

For a moment, I wish he’d tell me he doesn’t like my body, just so I can get out of this weekend. That way, my heart isn’t at risk of getting trampled over at all.

“Stab in the dark,” he says lowly, his fingers tracing over my arms that are still locked over my stomach. “You’re insecure about how you look?”

With a sigh that I hope says, I hate you for reading me so well, I nod.

He pulls my arms away from my body. “The expectation of women to be stick thin is stupid, and it does more harm than good. You know that, right?”

“Yes,” I mumble.

He kneels, holding my hips in his hands and kissing my stomach. “I like you like this. It means we’re feeding you well. And I obviously like spoiling you.” He grins up at me.

“I don’t think I can do this,” I whisper, wiping at my cheeks.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, princess. Do you want to try everything on without showing us?” He kisses my stomach again, and it takes everything in me not to suck it in. I have a feeling he wouldn’t like that.

I nod.

“Do you still want to spend the weekend with us?”

I hesitate, squeezing my eyes shut so I don’t see the disappointment I just know is written all over his face.

“You can say no, Wren. But we’re still buying you whatever you like from here and sending you home with all your clothes.”

I sniffle, barely holding back a sob, and look at him. “I want to, Oliver. I do. But I’m scared. Really, really scared.”

For a moment, he looks wounded. “That we’ll hurt you?”

I shake my head. “That I’ll hurt myself.”

He stands, brushing my hair out of my face. “Unfortunately, I can’t help you with that. But I would if I could.”

I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his vanilla and woodsy scent. We stay like that for a minute or two before I look up at him. “I’ll come back with you.”

He grins.

“You’re sure they won’t mind that I’m not going to show what I try on?” My fingers fist his shirt.

“Positive. All of this isn’t for us, princess. It’s for you.” After I give him a disbelieving look, he laughs. “Okay, it’s mostly for you. But I can’t lie. I’m excited to see what you pick out.” He leans closer and murmurs in my ear, “And even more excited to tear it all off of you so we can use you like the pretty fucktoy you are.”

His words send a shiver through me. Then I push him toward the curtains. “I’ll be back soon. And thank you, Oliver.”

He kisses me on the forehead, squeezes my hand, and then disappears.

I turn to the lacy pile of lingerie sitting in the corner of the dressing room and smile.

Told you. They’re nothing like Adam.