Perfect for You

what to expect, and she was afraid to analyze it.
    The only thing to do was to enjoy it. To use it to get her muse on her side again, and to have some fun in the process.
    Greg was going to be a lot of fun.
    She shivered.
    Her cell phone beeped with a text. She winced when she saw it was Connor.
    Back from New York. Dinner soon?
    She shot back a reply: Maybe Friday?
    His response came back just as quickly. Lovely. Pick you up at 8.
    Guilt stabbed at her, but she couldn't decide who she felt guilty about: Greg or Connor.
    No thinking about that tonight. She had a bath to take. Stroking the slippery fabric of her dress one last time, she went to fill her tub with hot water.
    Forty-five minutes later, when she was applying her makeup, she heard someone bang on her front door. Before she could slip on her robe and go investigate she heard the door open followed by muffled footsteps skipping up the stairs.
    Anna, of course.
    If she needed more proof, two seconds later she heard, "Freya! Are you up there?"
    "In the bedroom." She tied the sash of her robe and was about to go out to greet her sister when she appeared in the doorway.
    Anna whistled, long and loud, going straight to the dress. "Nice."
    "Don't get your grubby fingerprints on it."
    She stuck her tongue out.
    "What are you, five?" Shaking her head, Freya went into the bathroom and finished with her mascara. When she walked back into the bedroom, her sister was trying on the shoes.
    Anna hobbled around on the heels, holding her hands out for balance. "If only your feet weren't so big."
    Sometimes it was best to just ignore your sibling.
    "I take it you have a hot date. A super hot date, based on this fabulous dress." Anna sighed and touched a layer of chiffon with longing. "This is a princess dress. It must have cost a fortune."
    "You're going to have to live in your car the rest of the semester."
    "Ha ha." Anna made a face and plopped on the bed, careful not to wrinkle the dress. "So who's the dress for?"
    "Greg."
    " Greg , as in the ogre upstairs?"
    "Shut up," Freya said mildly, opening her underwear drawer.
    "I'll shut up, but I'm smirking on the inside. You seriously aren't going to wear underwear with that dress, are you?"
    She frowned at her little sister. "I don't think I want to have this sort of conversation with you, especially since you're going to be a virgin till you're thirty-five."
    Anna grinned. "I won't tell you about Hans and Boris during spring break then."
    "You hung out on my couch during spring break."
    "So did Hans and Boris."
    Rolling her eyes, she picked up her dress and went into the bathroom. As she fastened the hook of the halter-top around her neck she tried not to envision Greg undoing it. Neither was she imagining it slithering off of her and ending up in a pool at her feet. Nor was she thinking about Greg's hands following its descent down her body.
    When she went back out, Anna whistled again. "Shrek—um, Greg is going to swallow his tongue when he sees you. If only I were taller."
    "Then you'd borrow the dress to wear to art history?" Freya asked with a smile, slipping her earrings on.
    Anna shrugged, glancing away.
    "Anna," Freya said, stopping to look closer at her sister. "Is there a new boy?"
    "No."
    She said it so definitively that Freya didn't doubt that there wasn't. Still, she knew her sister, and there was something going on there. "I'll find out, you know."
    "You always do." Anna frowned at her. "You should put your hair up.
    She turned to the mirror and twisted her long mass of curls into a pile on her head. "You're right," she said as she secured it.
    "So what are the plans for tonight?"
    "Dinner. I don't know where, he just told me to get dressed up."
    "That's so romantic." Anna sighed longingly, a faraway look in her eyes. "So when you guys come home, will you go to his place or yours?"
    " Anna ."
    "Come on. A woman doesn't wear a dress like that except to get lucky. That dress is saying ÔHere's your present, big boy—untie my bow at your will.'"
    "I am not telling him to untie my bow. And don't make me wash your mouth out with soap."
    "Freya, there's nothing wrong with having your bow untied."
    "Of course there isn't," she agreed, slipping on her new shoes. "But you and I aren't going to discuss my bow."
    Anna flopped back on the bed. "You're so old fashioned sometimes."
    "Did you come here for a reason, or was torturing me your main goal?"
    Her sister shrugged, looking away again. "I haven't seen you in a bit.