You’d think she’d be more freaked out. Maybe putting up flyers? Searching for him? Nope.
“Maybe. Keep an eye out, please,” I reply, slipping my blouse over my head.
“Of course. Now, have you been losing any weight?”
My mood sours, and I clench my jaw to keep from snapping at her.
“I don’t know.”
“You know you need to eat in a calorie deficit. Have you been using that tracking app I sent you? Honestly, it’s fantastic. You need to lose your butt fat, Em.”
I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose and taking a slow breath.She means well. She means well.
“No. I haven’t downloaded it.”
“Why not? How are you supposed to find—”
“I actually have found someone,” I blurt. “And they like me just the way I am.”.
Oh. Where did that come from?
Mum’s silence is deafening. “You have a new girlfriend?”
I wince. “Uhhh. No. I’ve just started seeing someone. A man.”
More silence. “I thought you’d sworn off men after the last one—”
“I’m actually really busy. Gotta go. Love you.”
“Oh. Love you too. Bye.”
I stare at my reflection after the call clicks off. I'm not sure where that bolt of confidence came from, but it feltreallyfucking good.
"Angel?" Eli calls from downstairs.
"Coming!" I shout back, grabbing my leather jacket—yes, theone with his name on—before hurrying down the steps.
I can't help the pang of disappointment that hits me when Eli tells me we're taking the car not the bike. I've enjoyed the feel of the wind in my hair as we ride. It doesn't hurt that it means I get to press up against his muscular back too.
London blurs outside the windows on our way to the shopping centre.
Eli eases the car into a space then hops out, running around to open my door.
“Where should we go first?” I ask as he takes my hand, leading me inside.
I’m thinking H&M or New Look—somewhere affordable, even if their sizing can be painfully sporadic. But Eli walks us straight past them toward a small boutique in the corner.
“Um, Eli, I think you have to book an appointment for somewhere like this.”
“I called ahead,” he responds gruffly, glaring at every man we pass. His arm curls around my shoulder, pulling me into his side.
The door opens with a soft chime, and a sales assistant scuttles over as soon as it closes behind us.
“Welcome toBell’s Boutique. How may we help you?”
Eli doesn’t even look at her, his gaze fixed on me even as he speaks. “I called earlier. We’re looking for dresses—it’s Mr. Calder.”
He sounds so formal, a complete contrast to his large frame, distressed jeans, and casual T-shirt.