Ava glanced down at herself from head to toe. The white heels hugged her fair, slender feet perfectly, but the dress—it made her uncomfortable. Her thighs were too exposed, and she kept tugging the hem down with nervous fingers. When she looked up, Hazel was beaming at her.
Hazel, now dressed in Ava’s casual baddie jeans and white sneakers, sleeves rolled up, grinned as if she were admiring a work of art. “You look stunning, Ava. If I were a guy, I would’ve asked you out ages ago.”
The dress hugged Ava’s curves so well, anyone would think Hazel had taken her along when she bought it.
Ava curled her lips in dissatisfaction. “It’s too short, Hazel. I can’t wear this.”
She tugged at the neckline where the fabric dipped—not low enough to show cleavage, but enough to make her self-conscious
