Out of Focus (Love in LA #3)

“Yeah,” I answer. I have four outfits ready. I walk through the flat, heading to my room, but when I don’t feel him behind me, I whip around. “Are you coming?”

“To your bedroom?” His voice raises at the end.

“Yes, Machado. My room. Where the clothes are laid out on the bed so you can see them.” I roll my eyes, a habit my sister and I share.

“Uh, why don’t you try them on and show me?” Is he serious? No, thanks.

“Because that sounds like an absolute nightmare, and I’m not trying on multiple outfits.” I don’t understand his hesitation. It’s just a bedroom. “Can we stop this yelly conversation with me in the hall and you in the living room? Just get in here.”

I hear his footsteps and smile to myself, walking toward my bed before he can see me.

“All right, so I have a dress I actually like and feel comfortable in. Jeans and this sort of ruffly top. A silky skirt with a light sweater—Elaina picked this one. And finally, the leather-looking leggings with a long jumper. I’m worried I’ll be too hot in that one, though, because it’s always too warm inside restaurants.” I blow out a breath, taking in the clothing on my bed as he stands silently. I look up at Rafael, waiting for his opinion.

He drops his phone on my nightstand and scratches the back of his neck. He must hate all of these options. My shoulders come in on themselves as I deflate a little.

“You’d look amazing in all of these, carrot cake.” His eyes stay down, scanning the items as his tongue moves back and forth across his lower lip. “I’m gonna say we cut the leather pants, which is too bad, because your ass would look great in those. But you should be comfortable.” He waves a hand at the items, as if dismissing them. My stomach summersaults as his compliments land. “The jeans might seem too casual, even though I bet that shirt would look really pretty with your hair.” He smiles as he says the words, then runs a finger along the silk skirt, finally looking up at me. “So, now the question is, which one do you feel better in? The dress or the skirt?”

I glance at him, then back to his hand on my skirt, still absentmindedly stroking, and instantly, I decide I won’t be able to wear that without thinking about his hands on it. While it’s on my body. And I’m about to go on a date with…Zach! Right!

“I think I’ll go with the dress, then.” I silently beg him not to touch the dress, or I’ll be going on this date naked. Ugh. No. Do not think about being naked.

He claps, startling me out of my chaotic thoughts, his lips curling up into that irresistible, easy smile. I shake myself out of whatever this is and pick the dress up, walking toward the bathroom attached to my bedroom.

“I’ll be right back,” I mumble and scurry to the bathroom, shutting the door and leaning against it as I catch my breath. From what? I don’t know.

I undress quickly and look at the dress on the hanger. It’s a deep green with sleeves that flutter over my arms. It wraps in the front, and the hem sits just below my knees, but there’s enough cleavage to make this a little sexy. I look down and realize the bra I have on will not work with this dress, so I remove it. Except now I don’t have a bra on, and I definitely need one with these generous D-cups. I don’t hear any sounds coming through the door, so I open it enough that I can peek into the bedroom. He’s gone.

I walk toward my dresser, and the moment I take the first few steps, Rafael appears at my bedroom door, reaching for something on my nightstand. When he turns, his eyes are locked on my very, very naked breasts.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!” Without blinking, his eyes scan the rest of my body. The black boy shorts I have on, my bare legs, and when his gaze starts to move back up to where I am most naked, my arms finally shoot up and wrap around my chest, my hardened nipples poking into my forearms.

“Get out!” I shout, and he rears back, nearly falling on his bum.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! I thought you were in the bathroom,” he yells from the hallway.

“And I thought you left the room,” I yell back as I find the bra I need.

“I did. I forgot my phone. I didn’t think you’d come out so… so naked! I’m sorry.” I can hear him pacing, his voice sounding closer than farther away as we have another shouting conversation. I hope the walls in this building aren’t too thin.

“Well, I didn’t have the right bra.” I wave it in the air, forgetting he can’t see me. “I’m going to go put this and the dress on now. I will come back out fully dressed.” I slam the bathroom door a little too hard as I step in. If I thought I was out of breath before, all of the breath has definitely left me now. He just saw me as close to naked as anyone has seen me in two years.

I cannot think about this. We have to just be adults and move past it. And we will. This is fine. He’s seen plenty of breasts before.

Oh God, he’s seen so many breasts before. So many probably perky, perfect ones that are nothing like mine. What if he thought mine were gross and weird?

Ugh, who cares? You’re not going out with him. Ever. It makes no difference what he thinks. He’s probably already forgotten all about them anyway.

I slip the dress on, tying the bow at the side with slightly shaky hands. I check my makeup in the mirror, smooth down my hair, which I can easily straighten here thanks to the lack of humidity, and open the bathroom door.

The bedroom is empty. I walk to the door, seeing that the hallway is also empty. Peeking into the living room, there’s no sign of Rafael. I hear mumbling and walk to the kitchen. There he is. Holding a glass of water, whispering something to it.

“Am I interrupting?”

He whips around, nearly dropping the glass. His eyes land on me for half a second before he looks down at the floor.

“No. Sorry. Thirsty. Sorry.” He clears his throat, eyebrows furrowing as he shakes his head.

“All right, well, I need you to actually look at me now and not make this weird.” I put my hands on my hips, feigning annoyance. “They’re just breasts. Let’s move on?” I’m mostly terrified he’s never going to be able to look at me again.