Duke didn't completely understand why Jennifer thought he was the best person to ask about what to wear for her date.
But he really, really wishes she hadn't.
"What about this one?" she asked, stepping out from one of the screens that divided her room. It was black dress with an asymmetrical skirt and a halter top that had a white lace overlay to it. It showed an exceptional amount of skin. There was also a thin black belt that pulled the middle of the dress tight around her waist and accentuated her figure.
It was beautiful.
And Duke hated the idea of someone else seeing her in it.
Duke shook his head as he went back to pretending to read a magazine he'd grabbed from Jennifer's bookshelf, reclining onto her bed, "No. You look like you're going to a nightclub. Or a funeral where you're the deadman's mistress and you're trying to really show up the widow."
Jennifer laughed at his last comment before she sighed. She let her head fall back and groaned as she stepped back behind the screen, "Ugh, Duke this is the third dress you haven't liked! Something has to work!"
Duke just shrugged, "I just don't understand why you care so much about what this kid—what's his name?—Mitch? thinks?"
"It's Michael and I care because I happen to like him." Came the indignant reply from the other side of the screen.
Duke sighed through his nose and clenched his jaw at that. Don't remind me, he thought, tossing the magazine to the side and sitting up.
He hadn't wanted to admit it, but he didn't like this Michael kid from her literature class who "was smart and insightful and funny" and a goddamn laundry list of other adjectives that had Jennifer sighing like she was in one of those goddamn Rom-Coms she's made him watch. Jennifer was easily the smartest girl he knew and this Michael guy had her—well she was just different, is all. And Duke didn't like that this guy could change her so much.
"Yes, you've mentioned that." Duke called back to her, trying and failing to keep an edge from his tone.
Her head came around the edge of the screen so she could glare at him, "But you don't."
Duke just shrugged at that, "I have no opinion about a kid who's name I can't even get right."
She eyed him for a moment before disappearing back behind the screen. "If I didn't know you as well as I do, Duke, I'd think you'd purposely messed up his name."
"Now why would I do that?" Duke replied mockingly.
Jennifer stepped out from behind the screen again, wearing an ivory cardigan over a teal dress that had a draped neckline and a knit overlay. It had elastic in the waist to pull it close and she'd wrapped a light brown leather braided belt over it. It was much more casual than the previous dress but she still looked too pretty for his liking for some reason.
She leaned carefully on the screen as she regarded him, before a shadow of recognition came across her face as well as a playful, though disbelieving, smile, "It…oh god, Duke are you jealous?"
Duke crossed his arms over his chest, scoffing, "What? I wouldn't—why would I be jealous?"
Jennifer shrugged, still smiling, "I can't imagine."
She walked over to him, "I mean, after all, if you liked me as more than you're best friend, surely you would've told me by now, right?"
She was standing in front of him now, and he pulled his arms closer towards him, still not saying anything.
She leaned towards him, placing her hands on his shoulders carefully, "And if you had told me, I would've—hypothetically—turned down Michael's proposition for a date."
Duke gave her a surprised, though confused look, "You would've?"
She nodded, as her smile turned sly and she moved her hands to hold his face, "I would've."
She leaned down, making like she was going to kiss him—he'd even closed his eyes—but just before her lips met his, she turned his head to his left and whispered in his ear, "But you didn't."
She released his face and grabbed her bag from the bed next to him, "Thanks for the help, Duke. I'll call you once the date's done."
With that, she left Duke to sort out what had just happened.