Outsmarted

I gulped, biting my lips, as if it would stop my cheeks from becoming red.

I quickly looked away, focusing on the dress in Lyra's hands. "Okay, fine. I'll wear it."

Lyra grinned, handing it over. "You won't regret it."

Once I'd changed and stepped out again, I felt completely exposed. The red dress clung to me in all the right—and wrong—places, and I couldn't help but feel like everyone's eyes were on me.

"This is… a lot," I said, glancing down at myself.

"Exactly," Zayn said, stepping closer, his eyes lingering on me longer than necessary. "Now walk."

I turned toward the runway again, but this time, something felt different. The way Zayn was watching me, the way the dress clung to my skin—it was like the whole world had shifted, and I wasn't sure if I liked it.