Masked SheWolf (MSW book 1)

Chapter 24 - Sadie

Frustrated, Dylan sighs heavily. "Okay, what's it going to take for you to drop this?"

A plan immediately begins to form in my head. I realize it's probably a bad idea to force Dylan to accept the fact that she's a girl, but if she's ever going to be truly okay with who she is, she needs a little encouragement.

Dylan pulls her hand back when she feels my lips turning up into a smile. "Let me give you a makeover," I request as kindly as I can.

She blinks, completely lost, "What?"

"I just want to see what you look like in girl clothes," I use as an excuse.

She glares at me in response. Seconds later, I realize what she must have thought I meant, so I raise my hands up and add, "Just clothes, I swear... no shaving or plucking or makeup or anything. I can use my imagination for that."

"No," is her immediate response.

I pout. "Why not?"

She seems to be starting to lose patience, because she brings her hand to cover her face and puts two fingers on the bridge of her nose.

"Sadie," she says calmly, "Over a month ago, I got in trouble for wearing a bra in the house and taking a picture in it."

I knew she was going to use this line of reasoning, and I know exactly how to counter it. "But your brothers are by now either gone to work or out with friends, and your parents have that brunch with mine in half an hour," I point out. "The house will be empty, and we can take precautions so that no one sees us from outside."

That's when she starts to hesitate, and I take advantage of the opportunity.

"Five minutes," I beg. "That's all I'm asking for. Five minutes of you in clothes you were meant to wear, and then I'll help you burn the evidence myself."

There is a part of me that suspects Dylan is only suppressing who she is out of fear and habit. But I think she actually longs for the freedom to be herself. I am giving her an opportunity to do that without getting caught or being in trouble with her parents for it.

"Fine, but just five minutes, and we have to be sure no one can see or hear us," she finally agrees in a hushed tone.

Beyond pleased, I squeal and throw my arms around her neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I chant. "Wait, you do have girl clothes, right?"

Dylan considers this for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I have something that might work," she says.

I can feel a nervous but suppressed excitement radiating off of her, and I'm glad that I was right. She will thank me for this someday in the future.

The time it takes us to walk to Dylan's place from the compound is enough for her family to have vacated the house. Dylan rushes us into her room, locks the front door, closes every window and curtain on the second floor and starts taking out the clothing items she must have been talking about.

"Just remember that the shirt isn't mine, but the pants are, so there's no way they're going to match," she tells me.

It's cute that she gets so self-conscious.

"It's fine Dyl, just put them on. I won't judge you on your wardrobe choice," I tease.

Dylan may have let the fact that I saw her naked in the forest a couple weeks ago slide. Although I insist that it is okay for her to change in front of me, she is adamant that she won't strip for me or anyone ever again. I have to relent.

She takes way longer than she should have in there, and I start to get restless after a while.

"Come on! You've been in there for over twenty minutes!" I complain. "I'm beginning to think you drowned in the sink."

Finally, after taking her sweet time, Dylan unlocks the door and steps out of the bathroom. She stands in front of me while I examine her appearance. She doesn't have her usual bandage wrappings on, so her feminine curves are obvious for anyone looking. The mismatched colors of her purple top and grey pants look oddly cute together.

Her hair reaches just the middle of her forehead from the front and is only an inch and a half long. It is a mess. A cute mess, but it's still in need of a comb. Her eyebrows, though separated, could use a bit of a touch-up. But regardless of all of that, she is still very pretty. I just wish she would see that herself.

"Oh yeah, with a little work, definitely hot," I reaffirm my previous assessment.

"Well too bad this is the best you're going to get," she replies sarcastically. "There's no way I'm ever going to have the luxury of doing more than that. Now are we done? Can I change back?"

Pleased I finally got her around to doing this, I smile and nod. "Yes, you can change back now. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she mutters.

I hear a rattling sound coming from downstairs. Dylan and I exchange a look, realizing at the same time what the sound is; keys going into the lock. I am suddenly very frightened and very annoyed at myself. But I'm not nearly as scared as Dylan, who rushes into the bathroom and locks the door.