Sophia stepped inside the softly lit boutique, the quiet hum of quiet jazz wrapping around her like a velvet cloak. The scent of sandalwood and fresh fabric filled the air, calming yet intoxicating.
Nate was already there, casually leaning against the fitting room doorframe, arms crossed, wearing that effortless charm that made her stomach flip even now.
"You're punctual," he teased, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"Unlike some people," she shot back, folding her arms. "I like to keep a little control."
He raised an eyebrow. "Including making your own way here instead of letting my driver pick you up?"
Sophia met his gaze steadily, but didn't answer. Instead, she reached for the delicate gown draped over the mannequin, fingers brushing the silk. "No need to be salty about it ."
Nate stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
She laughed softly while staring into his eyes, a little breathless. "Is that so? Then why do I feel like you are the one hiding more?"
He studied her like he wanted to memorize every curve, every hesitation. "Maybe because you are."
The fitter interrupted gently, offering a hanger with a shimmering silver dress. Sophia took it, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the heat rising in her cheeks.
As she changed behind the curtain, Nate lingered by the window, watching the city bustle below. The gala was looming, a test of everything they were building—or destroying.
When she stepped out, the dress hugging her perfectly, Nate's breath caught. He said nothing, but the look in his eyes said it all.
Sophia smiled, though her heart pounded. "We make a good team, don't we?"
"Better than good," Nate whispered.
The air between them was electric, full of promise and danger.
"I don't like this one," Sophia said, her voice a little breathless as she pretended to fuss with the hem of the dress — anything to keep her eyes off Nate's hungry stare. "Can I change to something else?"
"Take your time," Nate murmured, his tone deceptively calm but his eyes clearly tracing every line of her exposed shoulders before he turned away, stepping just outside the dressing room but not far enough to really leave her alone.
Sophia exhaled shakily and slipped back behind the curtain, her fingers trembling as she peeled the gown off. Get a grip, Dawson. You're not thirteen. You are not going to melt for him in a boutique dressing room.
The fitter reappeared with another dress draped over her arm — a deep golden silk that shimmered in the soft light. Sophia accepted it with a polite thank you, barely glancing at Nate's amused smirk from where he leaned on the wall, arms folded like he owned the place.
She slid into the dress carefully, feeling the cool silk slide over her flushed skin. This one clung to her waist and hips before flaring out just below the knee. The neckline dipped tastefully but enough to draw the eye — elegant, timeless, yet unmistakably sensual.
She turned in front of the mirror, pressing her palms to her warm cheeks. Focus on the dress, Sophia. Not the man waiting to ruin every logical thought in your head.
"Ready?" Nate's deep voice floated through the curtain.
Sophia peeked out, her hair a little tousled from wrestling with the last zipper. "Not even close. This one makes me feel like a cupcake at a five-year-old's birthday party."
Nate's low laugh slipped through the small gap. "Sweet, but too safe. Not you."
She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Oh? And you know what 'me' looks like now?"
He didn't miss a beat. "I'm starting to figure it out."
Sophia tugged the curtain fully closed behind her, breathing out a quiet laugh at Nate's audacity. The fitter, who had been hovering politely with a handful of shimmering fabrics, stepped forward with the next option.
"This one might be more your style, Miss Dawson," the fitter said, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. She held out a sleek, floor-length gown of deep blue satin — the kind that looked simple on the hanger but promised to cling and drape in all the right places.
Sophia ran her fingers over the fabric, the cool satin teasing her palms. "Better than a cupcake, at least."
The fitter smiled, clearly relieved to have something promising to offer. "It's timeless, but the slit adds… drama. I think he'll approve." She nodded discreetly toward the other side of the curtain where Nate's shadow lingered.
Sophia rolled her eyes, biting back a grin. "He always does." She took the dress carefully and turned away, her heart drumming louder than she'd ever admit.
Sophia draped the burgundy gown over the little velvet stool and untucked her towel with a quick breath. She slipped the satin over her head, careful not to smudge her lip gloss on the satin neckline.
As she tugged the dress down her hips, the fabric hugged her like cool water — liquid and smooth, pooling around her ankles with a soft rustle. She turned, eyeing her reflection critically.
It was… stunning. Almost too stunning. The high slit teased her thigh with every shift of her weight; the way it clung to her waist made her feel like someone else entirely — someone dangerous, not the 'responsible Sophia' everyone knew.
She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, twisting side to side to see how the dress moved. A warm rush spread through her chest, but doubt still flickered in her eyes.
The fitter, waiting just beyond the curtain, noticed her silence. She stepped closer and asked carefully, "Not quite the one, is it?"
Sophia hesitated. "It's beautiful. Maybe too beautiful."
She stepped back behind the curtain, the silky fabric of the third dress slipping off her shoulder as she peeled it away. She wrapped the towel tighter around herself, feeling both exposed and strangely exhilarated. The fitter hovered nearby, bustling with nervous energy.
"Miss Dawson, I have one last dress you might want to try — it's a special piece, not usually in our collection. Consider it a bonus."
Before Sophia could respond, Nate stepped forward and gently intercepted the hanger the fitter was holding out.
"I'll take that off your hands," Nate said smoothly, flashing a smile that made the fitter visibly relax. "Thanks for all your hard work today."
The fitter nodded gratefully and slipped away, leaving the two of them alone.
Sophia blinked in surprise, her hand reaching out instinctively through the slightly cracked curtain to take the final gown. She barely heard the fitter murmur something before slipping away — she was too busy trying to keep the towel tucked under her arms, still flushed from Nate's teasing glances earlier.
She expected smooth fabric to brush her fingertips.
Instead, warm fingers wrapped around her wrist.
Her breath hitched. She tugged her hand back in confusion — and the curtain parted just enough for her to see him. Nate. Inside the dressing room with her, the bonus dress draped over his arm, his eyes fixed squarely on her flushed face.
"Nate—" she gasped, her voice half scandal, half thrill.
He pushed the curtain fully closed behind him with one hand, locking them away from the bustling boutique. His shoulders nearly filled the tiny space, the scent of his cologne mixing with the faint perfume of fabric softener and silk.
"I thought you'd like it better if I brought it myself," he murmured, a wicked grin playing at his mouth as his gaze dipped to the towel barely covering her curves. "And maybe… talk about that stunt you pulled. Dodging my driver."
Sophia's pulse skittered in her throat. "You can't be in here—"
"Too late." His free hand skimmed down her bare arm, sending goosebumps in its wake. "Why are you pushing me away, Soph?"
She backed into the mirror, her voice weak. "I'm not—"
"You are." He dropped the dress neatly on the little bench. Then he stepped closer, so close her towel caught on his belt buckle. "You feel this too. Last night. Here. Now."
His hand framed her jaw, thumb brushing her parted lips. She trembled, heat pooling deep in her belly.
"Nate—"
Before she could stop him, he dipped his head, lips brushing the corner of her mouth — feather-light but enough to set her whole body alight.
She clutched his shirt front, her protest lost in a tiny, betraying whimper.
Without warning, Nate's arms circled around her waist from behind, pulling her gently but firmly against him. His breath was warm at her ear.
Sophia closed her eyes, the moment stretching—charged and fragile. Outside the dressing room, the city's noise seemed miles away.
Nate's arms tightened around Sophia's waist, his fingers tracing slow circles on the bare skin just above the towel's edge. She shivered, a heat pooling low in her belly that left her breathless. The softness of his touch, the warmth radiating from his body—it was intoxicating. Her skin prickled with desire, and despite every effort to stay guarded, she found herself melting into him.
"Do you even realize what you do to me?" Nate's voice was a low whisper, his lips brushing her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
Sophia bit her lower lip, trying to steady her racing heart. "You're impossible."
He smiled against her neck, then slowly moved his hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing over her flushed skin. "I'm just being honest."
Her fingers curled around the towel, but it was useless—her body was betraying her. The slickness pooling between her thighs, the rapid flutter of her pulse—it was all too much.
Nate dipped his head, lips barely grazing hers as he gently spun her around to face the mirror. His eyes searched hers, dark and serious, full of something she didn't want to name but couldn't ignore.
"Just one time," he murmured, voice thick with want.
Sophia's breath caught, her whole body leaning in as if pulled by an invisible force. His groin hovered inches apart, a fragile electric charge buzzing between them.
Then— knock knock
The sharp rap on the door shattered the moment like glass.
"Sorry, excuse me, just need to—" a voice called from outside.
Both snapped apart, breathless and flushed.
Nate stepped back, giving her space, his expression a mixture of frustration and longing.
Sophia's pulse was still rattling against her ribs as Nate finally, reluctantly, stepped back. He brushed a knuckle under her chin, eyes heavy with things they hadn't dared name yet. Then he slipped out of the dressing room like he hadn't just turned her inside out with a touch.
She pressed a hand to her lips, forcing her breathing to slow. God, she'd been this close to losing every ounce of control.
She slid the bonus dress on. It was deep emerald silk, hugging her curves like it knew every secret she'd tried to keep hidden. A high slit carved up her thigh, scandalous enough to make her cheeks flame again — not that it mattered now. She barely glanced in the mirror before stepping out.
Nate was already waiting at the front, card in hand. One look at her and something dark sparked in his eyes again. He didn't say a word — just settled the payment, thanked the staff, and pressed his palm gently to the small of her back as they walked out into the sunshine.
Outside, he caught her hand before she could pretend otherwise. She tried to pull away, but he only tightened his hold, a smirk flickering over his lips.
"Don't fight me, princess. After almost devouring you in there, you owe me at least one soft date."
She shot him a warning look. "Where are you taking me now, Sterling?"
"Ice cream." He leaned closer, murmuring in her ear, "I need to cool off. And so do you."
Before she could protest, he opened the car door like a gentleman — but his eyes promised anything but innocent.