Free Walk with Me (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream) by Kaitlyn Stone

skank sitting on his lap feeling him up and whispering dirty little things in his ear.
    “Yeah, well we aren’t exclusive and we haven’t even talked about plans for this Tuesday. So he and I are both free to see other people.” I play like I don’t care because I don’t want Danielle or Donovan thinking I’m jealous or clingy, but the thought of Donovan kissing some skank and then kissing me like he does almost makes me gag.
    “Are you going home with Tyler tonight?”
    “No, he booked us a suite at the Miramar for the night, but I may stay tomorrow night, too, so I probably won’t see you for a couple days.”
    I raise my eyebrows to the ceiling. “Nice. A suite, huh?”
    “Yeah, my big spender,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows at me in the mirror. “But part of that is an insurance policy on his job, too. He wants to have a couple drinks tonight and doesn’t dare drink and drive. That could be a career ender right there.”
    “Yeah, I got that impression from Donovan, too. I’ll text you with what happens with the cars this Sunday, though.”
    I step back and admire my handiwork, regrouping with a couple breaths. I don’t have a claim on Donovan, so I need to chill out and take things one day at a time. I turn side to side, following the bathroom light reflecting off my slicked straight mane. My makeup is simple—black eyeliner and mascara, accentuating my dark eyes, and a slash of red gloss on my lips to match my dress. I can’t believe my eyes. I don’t recognize the vision reflecting back at me. Tonight I don’t look like the poor, struggling student that I am, lost alone in the world, but a young woman with prospects and options in life.
    I spent a couple hours after work yesterday searching through gently used formal dresses at a resale boutique in Venice. My final selection was an off-the-shoulder deep-red gown, fitted at the bodice and waist, falling straight to my midcalf, something the elegant and sophisticated Lucy Hale would wear to a red carpet event. I also scored a pair of nude-color heels from Payright Shoes. I’m so proud of my finds—an entire outfit for less than twenty-five bucks. It’s amazing what you can find for very little money, if you’re willing to do some hand washing and spot cleaning.
    I’m in my room, putting together my borrowed handbag, when I hear the front doorbell ring. My eyes dart to the clock. Six on the dot, must be Donovan. I can hear his velvet voice talking to Sunny, so deep, strong, and confident. The familiar sound reverberates in my chest and squeezes my lungs, making breathing difficult.
    I enter the living room and Donovan turns around from his seat. Our eyes meet and he flashes me his all-American smile with side dimple. He stands and greets me as I step into the room. He takes my hands and brings one to his lips for a tender kiss, permanently fixing the silly grin to my face. “Hi,” he says, standing back to admire my dress. “You look stunning.” His words are more veneration than compliment.
    “Thank you,” I whisper back. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” I cock my head to the side. Donovan is wearing your typical tux with black tie and cummerbund, but the dark color against his tan skin and dark hair brings to mind Robbie Amell.
    My stomach flutters with excitement. The more I’m with Donovan and his world, the more I’m starting to believe fairy tales can be real, because right now I feel like Cinderella, readying herself for the ball. But broken girls like me don’t deserve a Prince Charming, if such a thing exists. Do they?
    “Are you ready to go?”
    “Hold on a sec, guys. I want to get a picture of you two before you leave,” Sunny speaks up, reminding me we aren’t alone in the room. While she’s digging through her purse for her phone, Danielle walks into the living room, a vision of grandness and beauty. Her sapphire-blue dress and short blonde hair make her resemble Princess Diana.
    After a few poses and shots