“Because I’m in your dress, which probably cost more than my tuition for the semester.”
The black gown hugs my waist, flaring out enough to let me move on the dance floor. One high slit shows off the only pair of heels I own. They’re gold and strappy, and a couple inches too high. Cute, but not cute enough to make up for the pain they’re going to cause me. People think hockey is a painful sport. I’d take a hard fall on the ice over this any day.
“Ta da,” Beth says, dragging me over to admire her work in the full-length mirror. I’m used to doing my own hair and makeup, so it’s unsettling to see what she’s done. I hardly recognize myself. The hair is over the top gorgeous, slicked back at the front, falling in gentle waves down my back. Deceptively simple, just like the dress.
“Thank you,” I say, swallowing around the lump forming in my throat. “Seriously. This would’ve been a horror show without you both.”
Maisie waves me off. “It’s what we do. Panic styling under pressure is our thing.”
Beth grabs a tiny gold clutch from her closet, tossing it to me. “And because I know you’re going to forget something essential, I’ve stocked this with mints, blotting paper, a Tide pen, and an emergency tampon.”
“A woman of many talents,” I murmur.
Maisie helps me into my coat while Beth checks the clock. “You ready?”
No, not even close, but I shoot Beau a quick text. Backing out of my promises has never been my style.
Me: Outside in five. Try not to pass out when you see me.
His reply comes back before I can tuck the phone away
Golden Boy: I’ll prepare myself.
Somewhere deep in my chest, the knot loosens. Just a little.
The limo sits at the curb, sleek and gleaming. The second I slide into the warm interior, I feel like I’ve stepped into an episode of Gossip Girl.
Beau’s sitting with his back to the darkened privacy window that separates us from the driver. He traces a path up the exposed skin of my thigh, and a delicious warmth follows his gaze, blossoming into a full-body heat.
“Hi,” I say, voice soft and unsure in the velvet-wrapped silence.
He exhales slowly, eyes raking down, then back up again. “Shit, Wild Thing.”
My heart does a full somersault. “That’s not very gentlemanly.”
“You can’t come in here looking like that and expect me to be a gentleman.” He trails a hand along the exposed skin of my back, tracing shivery circles.
My smile tugs itself into place despite the nerves. “You don’t look terrible yourself.”
“I knew I should’ve gone with the velvet lapels.”
We fall into silence, but it’s not awkward. It’s warm and full of unspoken things. Outside, the soft orange glow of the setting sun tints the city like a warm filter. Inside, it’s just us. If only we could keep it that way.
He exhales, running a hand through the slick swoop of hair. I never thought I was into blonds, but when I look at him, my brain short circuits. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get more intimidating. And then you show up in that dress.”
“I’m not trying to be intimidating.” He’s one to talk.
“Well, it’s happening anyway.”
A flush creeps up my neck, but I ignore it. “You look nice too.”
“Nice?”
“Nice,” I repeat, savoring the slight twitch in his jaw. “Very restrained billionaire’s son.” He looks hot in a classic tux. I’m sure it cost almost as much as the dress I’m wearing, but it’s lacking the personality of his usual post-game suits.
“Okay, now you’re just being mean.”
“I’m not saying you don’t look incredible, but it doesn’t look like you. Where’s your usual style? I was expecting a tux worthy of the red carpet. Something unique. You look like you’re trying to disappear into the crowd.”
