Been You

Chapter 1

I've lost count the amount of times I've changed in the past hour. My hotel room is a mess with an array of clothes and shoes scattered everywhere. I can't decide on which outfit to wear for my last night in Las Vegas. I don't want to look like a slut, nor do I want to play it safe and go with leather trousers and stand out from my friends.

I made sure to pack enough clothes for this situation so I don't have to do this but here I am. I'm undecided on what to wear and I've to meet my friends in just under ten minutes down at the reception area.

"I don't know why I'm finding this so hard to do," I groan, turning away from the floor-length mirror.

I walk over to the bed and pull out a few more dresses, turning my nose up to each one because they just aren't right. Nothing I have is going to make me feel the way I want go feel — whatever that may be.

I flop down onto the bed. This is no good. I should just text my friends and tell them I'm not going. Tell them that I've got too much packing to do — which I do — and that I can't make tonight. They'll be angry and knowing them, I'll have a knock at my room door before I have a chance to stand up with them complaining and physically dragging me out to go out.

I fall back onto the bed, exhaling loudly and with my hands covering my face.

"I hate this!" I scream. "Finding something to wear is never this hard for me."

My hands slide from my face and I gaze over at the opened wardrobe door. There's only one item of clothing left hanging there and it's in a black garment bag. It's a last resort outfit but it may be my only choice for tonight. I didn't want it and no matter how much I refused it, there was no taking 'no' for an answer.

I wish I didn't have to wear it but it just seems like my only choice right now.

I groan a little as I get up from the bed and walk straight for the bathroom, grabbing the black garment bag as I go. I leave the door opened slightly and place the garment bag on the wall hook as best as I can given the lack of space for it to sit properly. I pull the dress I'm currently wearing off and drop it onto the tiled floor by my feet. I reach for the garment bag, unzip it, pull the black and gold dress free from the hanger, and slip it on over my head.

The stretch-knit fabric clings to my curves like another layer of skin, hugging me in all the right places. I turn on the spot and look at my reflection in the mirror, almost gasping in horror at the sight of myself in the daring dress.

The plunging neckline stops just under my breasts which is more than what I can say for the back of it. I can feel the heat on my back grow cooler from the nap of my neck down to the bottom of my back. It's one of the reasons as to why I didn't want the dress because of how daring it truly is when you put it on. I'm almost grateful that I haven't got a bra on because it would be useless no matter what type of bra I wore — it would show no matter how much I tried to conceal it.

I sigh.

It will just have to do.

I step out of the bathroom and slip on my black strappy heels that are sitting by the floor-length mirror. Just as I straighten up, my phone beeps once. I look over at the side table by the small sitting area and shake my head with a smile appearing on my lips.

I knew it.

I run a hand through my long dark brown hair after pulling it free from under the dress as I walk over to receive my phone. I pick it up and read the text briefly. It's just a friendly reminder from one of my friends telling me that they're down in the lobby waiting for me. I knew what it would say without even needing to read it properly because I'm about to run late if I don't get moving.