Search Results: do looks matter dress

I started writing random bits to a romance novel. I've never even read one before, so it's been interesting. Haha. Here it is. You should tell me what you think. :)

It wasn’t a beautiful day. The sky was gray and it was coder than I would have liked for February. My mood was about as nice as the weather. I did not want to go on the trip. It meant nothing to me. I was not excited. In hindsight that probably had some sort of meaning. At the time I didn’t care. But I soon would. Soon everything would matter.

I was sick of the hyenas. On their own they’re each soft and cuddly, but together they’re cackling animals. I was not in the mood. I grudgingly sat across from them and looked behind me. Another friend was there, thank god. And He was sitting next to my friend. I didn’t pay him much attention, though. That would have been one of the last times that that happened. If I had known that I would have savored the moment more. If only I had known he would be haunting my mind.

There were five of us down there. I’m still amazed that the time I first noticed him was the time when so many other friends were around. I didn’t need the hot tub to feel hot. All I needed was him. Strands to wet, blond hair hanging into his eyes. His head, swinging to the side to get it out of the way. Too bad. I liked it that way. Drips of water rolling down his pale chest down to the top of his bathing suit. My mind began to wander to the wonders that that drop of water must have found. I contained myself, though. There were too many people around. I would get him alone. Then we would have our night.

I looked at myself in the mirror and wasn’t completely happy. The dress was pretty, but the air was cold, so I had to cover my shoulders. He saw them in the hot tub, but that wasn’t enough for me. Unfortunately I couldn’t change the weather. I had to cover them. I pulled down my dress a little to show enough cleavage for him to notice. My hair was a nightmare, but if all went well, he would not be looking at my hair that night.

He was breathtaking. His white shirt was unbuttoned just the right amount; his blazer made him look so professional, and his jeans were just tight enough to accentuate his firm, toned buttocks. I felt as if I couldn’t be good enough for him, but that wouldn’t stop me. Nothing would stop me.