Everything In Between (COMPLETED)

BEFORE|| Little Things

Tears of frustration surfaced and fell with every blink as I fought with the zipper on the back of my dress.

I dropped my right arm to my side, exhausted from the fight with the inanimate object. When I turned to snatch my phone from Dalton's dresser, my extended arm fell and a knot formed in my throat. As hard as I'd tried to pin the blame on the dress and manufacturer, staring down my reflection, I realized the problem had been me. The burgundy cocktail dress clung to every inch of my body, including the small bump that'd appeared over night a few days ago.

I didn't look pregnant. I looked bloated. Just enough there to be an inconvenience in everything I wore, but not enough to show off. I'd always had body dysmorphia, but this brought insecurities I thought my middle school self-had buried to light again.

"Hey, babe." Dalton didn't glance my way as he entered his bedroom but made a beeline for his closet. "Jeff said he was going to make it after all."

I nodded despite having no clue who he was talking about, and kept my eyes trained on him heading back in my direction rather than my reflection. "Can you zip me up?"

He ran one hand through his hair as he crossed the room. He waited until he was to my back and pressing one of his palms flat against the small of my back and the other pulling the zipper with most of his strength to chuckle and comment, "I told you to be careful with all those carbs."

It was said lightly, no doubt a joke to him, but he may as well have slapped that hand with all his force against my chest which how much it stung. Oblivious to the hurt lining my face, he squeezed my shoulder once he'd gotten the zipper in place and stepped back out into the hallway. I listened for him to spark a conversation with Dylan in the living room before I breathed out shakily and ran a hand down my dress, as if it'd flatten my stomach back to its normal shape. Suddenly uncomfortable with my own reflection, I spun on my heel and left the room. I snagged my jacket off the arm of the leather couch on my way out of the hall and to the front door. Unfortunately, I wasn't fast enough. Dylan stepped out from the kitchen just as I reached for my purse on the table.

"You know," he said, popping a grape into his mouth. "I'm starting to get the impression you don't like me, Harley."

I retracted my arm with my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and mumbled, "That's because I don't."

"You need to get over whatever your issue with me is." Dylan said with a not-so-discreet traveling of his eyes down my cleavage and to my baby bump. "We're family now."

I gagged, relieved when Dalton shoulder past Dylan, knocking him into one of the kitchen chairs. "Try not to burn the place down while I'm gone."

Dalton stepped out onto the patio, leaving the door wide open behind him. I sped out, but not quick enough, as Dylan caught my eye and winked before shutting the door behind us.

As if his brother's behavior and my loathing for my new body wasn't enough of a mood dampener, the second I was sitting in the passenger seat of Dalton's truck, he eyed my chest and nonchalantly ordered, "Put the jacket on. Your tits are in everyone's face."

Blinking in surprise, it took until he'd pulled away from his apartment for me to fully process what he'd said and I slipped my arms into my coat before we'd reached the end of the neighborhood.

I'd never worried about showing too much; that'd been Ashley's forte. She had spent countless nights our senior year explaining when and where showing skin was appropriate if we wanted to be respected. Lindsey and I had eaten up every word up. Ashley had also told me the only time a man would tell me to cover up would be if he was insecure and didn't want others looking. As I snuck a look in Dalton's direction, I considered the idea.