That seems to knock her out of whatever trance she was in. Her green eyes meet mine, and she shrugs. “Crap, you don’t have to invite me because you feel obligated to, Levi.”
“That’s Mr. Hotshot to you, and it’s not a pity invite.” Stevie shakes her head and bites her lip. “I think my friends are going to like you. A slight warning, though, they’re a little crazy.”
She’s silent for a beat and then another. Looking down at her clothes, she scrunches up her nose. “If that’s the case, I need to shower and change.”
Satisfied with her answer, I say, “You have time. We don’t have to leave for another forty minutes.”
“Then I’ll head to the bathroom now.” As she stands, her eyes widen. “Shit, I have no idea what to wear. What do your friendsusually wear? Probably dresses and heels. Oh, I cannot wear heels, nope, my feet will hurt in seconds. And oh God, what kind of shirt do I put on?—”
“Stevie.” I cut her off.
She stops her pacing. “I was blabbing again, wasn’t I?” Her hands cover her face. “Save yourself the humiliation and go without me.”
Taking a couple of steps toward the dramatic woman in front of me, I gently wrap my hands around her forearms and lower them. “Why don’t you go shower, and I’ll help you pick out an outfit?”
Her eyebrows knit together. “You promise to stay out of my underwear drawer?”
That makes me chuckle. “Yes, I promise.”
She tilts her head, and I mimic the action like a dog would. Stevie pushes me away while I grin. “All right, all right. I’ll see you in a few.” Stevie reaches the bathroom door and does one final turn. “I don’t own any dresses.”
Shooing her away, I reassure her of my capabilities. “I’ll find something. Go shower.”
She nods and finally closes the door. Taking a deep breath, I reach her room, which has bohemian-style decorations everywhere. Very Stevie of her. I open her closet door, and if I had to take a wild guess, Stevie’s never been to King’s Wolf before, which is odd since she’s twenty-one and is almost a senior. Then again, she doesn’t seem like the partying type, and if I had any doubts about that before, her weird reaction from a couple of moments ago confirmed it.
Most of the clothes in the closet consist of her daily wear. Cardigans, jeans, loose tops, and patterned sweaters. All resembling some sort of seventies clothing style. It takes me ten minutes to find something suitable for the bar. I’ve been going to college bars for years, have two girl best friends, and grewup with two women. All four of them have their unique sense of style, making it easier to identify and help me with Stevie’s. I just have to ask myself, “What the fuck would Kami and Em do?”
Once I’m done, I head toward the couch and wait for Stevie in the living room. I’m scrolling on my phone when she practically sprints out of the shower in a towel, making me do a double take. She shuts the door loudly, and I wait for her reaction to my choice. There’s shuffling in the room, but no other sounds. The clock hits nine twenty, and I start tapping my foot. She probably hated the outfit or panicked and no longer wants to go out with us.
As nine twenty-five hits, around the time I want to leave, since we’re still five long blocks away from the bar, Stevie steps out of her room. Her eyes remain on the floor as her long frame comes into view. She’s wearing what I laid out for her, and it looks as good as I thought it would. Better, even.
“Stop staring at me. You’re making me second-guess the outfit.”
Stevie finally meets my gaze, and I smile. “You look great.”
She grins uncomfortably. “Are you sure the shirt isn’t too tight? It’s something I use for in-house stuff only. Not that I don’t like it, I’m just not sure if it’s too revealing. Not that that’s bad either?—”
“It looks good,” I interrupt. “Change if you want to, although I highly recommend you don’t. I love the band as well.”
The outfit I chose is simple: the tightest jeans I could find in her closet, which, of course, were flared. A black Beatles T-shirt, which is, yes, tight, allowing her slim figure and curves to be seen, but doesn’t show any skin other than her arms and neck. I threw a random belt along with some boots she uses often, and she decided to keep her hair in a braid and put on some very light makeup. Nothing more than mascara and lip gloss. She looks casual and nice enough for a college bar.
Stevie lifts her chin a little higher, grabs her purse off the coat rack along with her lightest baggy jacket, and goes over to the door. “Are you coming or not, Hotshot?”
Chapter Six
STEVIE
Good Lord Almighty, what did I get myself into? We reach the door of King’s Wolf, and I hand my ID to the bouncer, who looks at me quickly and motions, inviting me inside. Levi is right behind me showing his fake ID, and as soon as we enter the bar, the aroma of beer and lemon cleaner fills my nostrils. The song “Boyfriend” by Dove Cameron plays loudly overhead from the multiple speakers around the place, but not as loud as the rowdy group of idiotic frat boys bypassing us to get to the mahogany bar on the left. One of them bumps into me, and I’m mentally flipping him off before losing my balance for a second.
Well, shit.Levi’s hands grab me around the waist, stopping me from falling.
“Whoa, you okay there, Bambi?” His eyes do a quick body scan, his hands still on me?—
Wait,Bambi?
I look at him with wide eyes. He wouldn’t.
Levi shakes his head and wears a panty-melting smile. “Well, would you look at that? Only took a couple of days?—”
