Just Convenience

Chapter 13

Emma's POV: 

"How does this look?" I asked, coming out of the dressing room to show Miles the sixth dress I had tried on for Peyton's parent's anniversary party. It was a formal gala, and that meant that I had to find a dress for a formal event. The one I had on now was an open-back, dark green midi dress. 

"Stunning, but I don't know if it suits you," Miles answered, nodding his head. He motioned for me to turn, and so I did, awkwardly moving in a circle to show off the dress. "You don't look comfortable in it." 

"I'm not," I said, already itching to get out of the dress. 

Miles tightened his lips as he looked around the store for something that we hadn't tried on, but my hope was starting to dwindle that we would find something when his eyes lit up, and he stalked away. Returning a few minutes later, he held a cream chiffon dress with delicate gold stitching making the dress practically shimmer in the store lighting. It looked way, way too expensive, but it also looked perfect. "Try this on," Miles basically demanded. 

"It looks really expensive," I said, waving my hands in front of me to say no, but Miles pushed the dress into my hands and pointed toward the dressing room. 

"Peyton gave me his credit card, so don't argue," he said; I gave him a stern look but did as he said and went to the changing room. 

The dress was... amazing. I didn't want to take it off. It fit perfectly, it made me feel confident, it was just... everything I could ever want. I looked down at the tag to look at the price, and holy shit; it was expensive. I walked out of the dressing room to show Miles, and when he saw me, his jaw dropped. "How do I look?" I asked, though his expression already told me everything I needed to know. 

"Absolutely gorgeous, its like that dress was made for you," he motioned for me to spin, and so I did. When I finished the turn, his hands were on his jaw, his eyes wide, and it made me want to laugh. "This is the one," he said, then repeated the sentence two more times to himself. 

"Is it really that good?" I asked, and Miles held up a finger to shush me, still marveling at the dress. 

He looked me up and down once again before finally speaking, "It is that good." I looked down at myself, then to the mirror I was standing in front of. It was a midi length, which suited my form best, as we've discovered today, but the fabric wasn't tight either, which was exactly what I was looking for. "Do you like it? I mean, that's all that really matters." 

"I do like it; I love it, actually," I said, looking back at him. 

He nodded again, "That settles it; we found your dress." 

"One problem," I said, looking back at the tag. 

Miles walked up to me and took the tag out of my fingers before promptly cutting it off with small scissors I didn't even know he carried; he then walked away toward the front desk while saying, "Go get changed; I'll go and pay for it." 

"Miles," I whined, and he just waved Peyton's credit card in front of his face before turning to the lady standing behind the counter.

As soon as I got back to the changing room, I took out my phone to text Peyton. 

Me:
Really?

Peyton:
What?

Me:
You are buying my dress?

Peyton:
Is that an issue?

Me:
Yes, it is an issue. We've been over this; you can't just buy everything for me.