We don’t take long to get ready. Dean trades a few texts with Camilo to make sure we’re both clear to borrow their clothes, and we step into an even bigger walk-in closet than the one at the Jax Pack beach house. I pull out the simplest, black party dress I can find, and Dean pulls out the biggest button-down and jeans he can find (Camilo might be tall and ripped, but no one’s as tall and ripped as Dean). I run a quick brush through my hair and an even quicker mascara wand over my eyelashes, and—
I freeze when I see my eyes. It’s the first time I’ve looked in a mirror since Calypso’s, and holy s**t, do I look different.
“You look beautiful,” he tells me when he sees my expression. “Stop panicking.”
“Beautiful?” I repeat, whirling away from the mirror to face him. “I look like an alien s
