Chapter 5- You Look So Damn Sexy

The bell above the shop door chimed as we walked in, and my stomach dropped.

Bright lights. Glass shelves. Colorful swimsuits hanging everywhere—tiny pieces of fabric that barely counted as clothing. I froze in the doorway, the air-conditioning biting at my skin.

“Eric,” I hissed, trying to pull my hand free. “You’ve completely lost it. I’m not doing this.”

He didn’t even look at me. “Relax,” he said smoothly, his tone calm like this was the most normal thing in the world. “You said you didn’t bring a swimsuit. Problem solved.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” I snapped.

“Didn’t have to,” he murmured. His eyes swept over the racks, assessing, calculating. “You clearly weren’t going to do it yourself.”

My pulse jumped. “You don’t get to make decisions for me.”

He turned then, finally meeting my eyes. That unreadable, dark gaze pinned me in place. “Someone has to,” he said softly.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

Then the clerk appeared—young, smiling, too cheerful for the kind of panic twisting in my chest. “Welcome! Looking for something special?”

“She is,” Eric said, jerking his chin toward me.

I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. “No, I’m not! I’m just—looking.”

“She needs a bikini,” he continued, ignoring me completely. “Something bold.”

My face burned. “Eric, stop it!”

But the clerk had already begun pulling options from the racks—tiny scraps of fabric in every color imaginable.

When she laid them out on the counter, my hands went cold. There were strings. Cutouts. Sequins. Things I couldn’t even imagine putting on my body.

“I can’t wear these,” I whispered.

Eric leaned against the counter, his arms crossed, that infuriating smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Why not?”

“Because they’re ridiculous!”

“Or maybe,” he said quietly, “you just don’t think you deserve to look good in them.”

The words hit harder than I expected. My throat went tight.

The clerk looked between us, awkward but professional. “Would you like to try one on, miss?”

I shook my head. “No.”

Eric picked up a red one—bright, fiery, the kind of red that drew every eye in the room. He held it up against me, his gaze slow and deliberate. “This one.”

I shoved his hand away. “You’re unbelievable.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t apologize. Just looked at me like he could see straight through my anger—to the embarrassment, the fear, the smallness I tried so hard to hide.

Heat crept up my neck. “Fine!” I snapped, grabbing the first one my hand touched just to make him stop looking at me. “I’ll try one, okay? Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” he said, voice dripping with amusement.

I stormed into the fitting room and slammed the door shut behind me.

Inside, I pressed my back against the wood, my chest heaving. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold the swimsuit.

It was only then I saw what I’d grabbed.

Red. Strings. Barely-there fabric.

My heart sank. “Oh, God.”

I held it up and stared at it like it might bite me. There was no way this was going to cover anything. I should just walk out—tell Eric to shove it and leave.

But then I caught my reflection in the mirror.

The tired eyes. The plain sundress. The version of me that always hid behind baggy clothes and polite smiles. The girl that had always been bullied for being fat.

Maybe that’s what he saw when he looked at me—someone small, invisible. Someone not worth noticing.

And I hated that.

I swallowed hard and started changing.

The bikini felt like a secret I wasn’t supposed to tell. Cool fabric brushing my skin, the strings trembling in my hands as I tied them. When I finally looked in the mirror, I froze.

It didn’t look awful. It looked… real.

Like me, stripped of everything I’d been hiding behind. My curves. My scars. My body—flawed, yes, but mine.

Heat flooded my cheeks. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Then came the knock.

Three sharp raps against the door.

“Sabrina,” Eric’s voice called, low and calm. “You done in there?”

My pulse jumped. “No,” I said quickly. “Go away.”

Silence.

Then—“If you don’t come out, I’m coming in.”

My heart stuttered. Fear consumed me as I wrapped my hands around myself. I couldn't let him see me like this. What would he think of my body? Of course he'd laugh at me like every other person does.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

I stared at the door, frozen. He didn’t sound like he was joking.

“Eric!” I hissed. “I mean it!”

Nothing. Just the quiet hum of the shop outside and my own breathing, fast and shaky.

Fine. I’d step out for one second, tell him off, and end this.

I opened the door.

The second I did, everything stopped.

Eric’s eyes found me instantly—and the look in them made the air leave my lungs. His gaze swept over me, slow and deliberate, like a touch I could feel without him moving an inch.

For the first time, he didn’t smirk. Didn’t tease. Just stared. And there it was—that dark glint again, sharp and dangerous.

I crossed my arms over my chest, my face burning. “Happy now?” I snapped, but my voice came out smaller than I meant.

He didn’t answer. Just took a step closer.

My back hit the door.

“Eric,” I said, warning in my tone.

He leaned in slightly, close enough that I could smell the faint trace of his cologne—clean, cool, and maddeningly intoxicating. His eyes flicked down to my mouth, then back up again.

“You shouldn’t look at people like that,” I whispered.

His lips curved, the faintest shadow of a smile. “Like what?”

“Like you’re—” My words caught. “Like you’re thinking things you shouldn’t.”

He chuckled, low and rough. “Who says I shouldn’t?”

My pulse went wild. “You’re very annoying.”

“And you,” he murmured, his gaze sweeping over me again, slower this time, “are full of surprises.”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

The space between us crackled. My breath came shallow and fast, my knees threatening to give way.

He tilted his head slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper that slid right under my skin.

“You look beautiful,” he said. “More than that.”

I shook my head, my throat dry. “Don’t—”

His next words were almost a growl, dark and quiet enough that I felt them rather than heard them.

“You look so damn sexy, Sabrina.”