Harper
“I can’t believe I let him talk me into this.” I stand in front of my mirror, trying on outfits while Cora sits on the bed, watching with observant eyes. “Of course people are going to clap for him, he’s the town darling. But me…” I make a face, discarding the top I have on for another.
Cora just sits there, her eyes bright, and I know I’m doing this as much for her as I am for myself. But still.
I’ve been throwing myself into preparing for the open mic night over the last few days. Whenever Cash and I have a moment to steal away, we sneak in some practice together. Something about the way his voice sounds and the way he plays guitar makes me feel like we can do this, but whenever I have to practice alone, I get the flutters of nerves all over again.
The garden helps, giving me something to do with my hands that’s meditative in a way, and pulling weeds has been my best friend lately. A way to destress whenever I find myself feeling flushed and my heart racing, which keeps happening more than usual.
It’s probably just the weird mixture of nerves and excitement that comes with doing something like this.
It’s been easy to get more comfortable in Silver Falls lately, and I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not. Every time I start to let my guard down completely, there’s a part of me that goes on alert, reminding me that it’s dangerous to drop my wariness. The wariness is what keeps us safe.
I’m not worried about the Alphas doing anything—despite myself, I’m starting to trust them. But it’s not just them that I have to think about. There are threats that could still find me, find Cora, and if something happens to her because I’ve been too busy living in a fantasy world to pay attention the way I should, I’ll never forgive myself.
It’s been quiet so far, but that doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way.
Still, on the night of the performance, I have different things to worry about. Like figuring out what to wear, when I still haven’t landed on the right thing.
I stand in front of my closet, feeling uncertain. It’s not like the bar is a fancy place. Nowhere in Silver Falls is going to be holding a black tie event or anything, but I want to look nice. Capable.
I hear footsteps coming down the hall and look up in time to see Cash appear in my doorway. He smiles, looking from my face to the dress I’m holding.
It’s something I bought a long time ago, but never had the courage to wear.
“That’s pretty,” he says casually.
“Yeah, I guess.” I hold it up to my body. It’s a nice color, a dusty pink that doesn’t make me feel washed out or like I’m going to clash with everything in the room. The sweetheart neckline shows off a tasteful amount of cleavage, I remember from when I tried it on when I bought it, and the skirt flares out around hips and legs in a flattering cut.
Do people wear dresses to bars? It’s not like I’m going there to work, just to perform, so it would make sense to look nice,right? To try to step it up more than I do when I’m there to serve food and drinks.
“Do you think it’s too much?” I ask Cash. He has it easy. All he has to do is throw on a button down shirt over his usual outfit of dark wash jeans and cowboy boots and he looks amazing.
Unfair.
“Harper,” he says, his voice warm and rich with good humor already. “You look stunning.”
“I’m not even dressed yet!”
He just shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. You always look stunning. You’re going to be beautiful in whatever you pick, so you should wear what makes you feel that way.”
I make a face at him, even while my cheeks flush with color from the compliment. He’s so damned sincere all the time, so I know he means it.
His encouragement does give me the confidence boost I need to put the dress on, pairing it with some simple jewelry and my own pair of boots.
The woman in the mirror looks like me, but I don’t feel like myself. I still have the flush of nerves and anticipation, but my eyes are bright, and the dress shows off my curves in a way that makes me look good instead of frumpy or too showy.
I take a deep breath and remind myself that I can do this.
“No time like the fucking present,” I murmur under my breath and head downstairs to meet the men so we can leave.
They’re all downstairs in the living room, already dressed for the evening. Cash’s dark red button down shows off his broad shoulders and makes his skin and hair seem to glow. Lincoln has on dark jeans that hug his frame perfectly, and Everett looks even more commanding than ever in black jeans and a leather jacket.
I see them every day, but somehow the sight of them now makes my mouth go dry, and I have to turn away before they notice me staring at them like I want to eat them.
Or like I want them to eat me.
“Are we ready?” Cash asks, grinning and bouncing on the balls of his feet. He reminds me of Cora when he does that, all excitable energy like a big puppy.