Page 84 of Examining the Bond

“Ha!” He drops his hands and reaches into his back pocket, producing a quarter pint of coconut liquor, which he promptly hands over. “No one comes better prepared than I do, love. Now, take a shot, and let’s get to work!”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I unscrew the cap on the bottle, scrunching my nose as the fragrance hits my nose. I’ve never drank much, and it’s always been fruity little cocktails that taste like juice. But as I knock the bottle back and take a swig, the liquid burns my throat. I choke down another gulp, grimacing as it assaults my taste buds, and pass it back to Ziel.

“Atta girl!” He takes a deep swallow of the liquor before setting the bottle next to our coffee. Then he connects his phone to my speaker in the corner and cranks up some upbeat, ass-shaking music he listens to at the club. “Ey, this is my song!”

I roll my eyes as he starts swaying in place, wiggling his hips.

“Come on, Riann! We’re going to have fun getting ready, and then we’re going to have a blast at this mixer,” he says over the beat. “Now, show me what you’re thinking about wearing.”

Warmth spreads through my system—a side effect of the alcohol—and I march over to my closet. Flipping on the light, my eyes rove over the clothes hanging inside, lingering on the few gowns I’ve managed to accumulate over the last couple of years.

I wish I had more options, like a jaw-dropping stunner that will surely turn every head at the mixer. But, unfortunately, I don’t have anything that fancy.

“How about this one?” I ask, dragging out a knee-length navy cocktail dress. It’s structured and classy. Pretty sure I got it for my school interview before enrollment.

“How about not?” Ziel scrunches his nose in disapproval. “What else you got?”

With a huff, I stuff the dress back into the closet and grab another one—this one a flowy red number with a high neckline.

“Are we going to a wedding?” Ziel cocks an eyebrow at me before shaking his head. “You know what, move out of my way. Let me see what we’re working with.”

With a groan, I step aside, watching with crossed arms as he peruses my dress options. I’m almost certain he’s not going to find anything—I was just in there looking—until he gasps and snatches a slinky black dress off a hanger.

When he turns to look at me again, there’s a gleam in his eyes. “This is the one. Go put it on.”

He throws the garment at me and I catch it, staring down at the fabric apprehensively. I haven’t worn this dress in so longthat I’m not even sure it fits. I bought it forever ago for an event that got canceled, and it’s just been collecting dust ever since.

And it’s so revealing…

“Chop chop,” he says, clapping with the words. “Get dressed and I’ll change while you’re in the bathroom.”

“Fine,” I groan, stomping past him. At least he made things simple and chose my outfit for me.

Once I’m inside with the door closed, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I look like hell with bags under my eyes, but it’s nothing a shit ton of concealer can’t handle. I sigh, shedding out of my pajamas and shimmying into the tiny dress, my insides wiggling when I see just how short the thing is—it barely covers my ass and the neckline splits low, revealing too much cleavage.

Heat burns my cheeks. I think I was a few pounds lighter and way more confident when I bought this thing.

Maybe a few more swigs of liquor will give me the confidence I need.

I grab my brush out of a drawer and start running it through my long red hair to give Ziel more time to change, curious what kind of outfit he has planned. He’s always the best dressed person anywhere we go, so I’m sure it’s spectacular.

Working out the tangles, I run some product through my hair to reduce the frizz and give my waves more volume. I could shower and fix my hair properly, but I don’t have that kind of energy. Or enough time, since I slept most of the day away.

“Are you done yet?” I call out, hoping he can hear me over the music.

Without warning, the bathroom door pops open, and I squeak. Ziel is taking up the doorway in a pair of loose-fitting black pants and a glittering mesh crop top that shows off his chiseled torso. He isn’t as muscular or large as an alpha, but no one can say he isn’t fit as hell.

“Damn.” I whistle. “Where’s the rest of your clothes?”

He opens his mouth to fire off something sassy, but then his eyes fall to my outfit. “Excuse me, ma’am? Where’syours?”

I subconsciously cover my chest with one hand and purse my lips. “I don’t know, you tell me. You picked it.”

He barks a laugh and steps into the cramped bathroom with me, shifting to admire our reflections in the mirror.

“Yeah, this is the look.” He turns this way and that, checking out his figure. “And you’re absolutely wearing that. You look stunning.”

I make a face, still uncertain. “You don’t think it’s… too much?”