A knock on my door snaps me out of it. "You decent?" James calls through the door.
"Unfortunately," I reply, opening it to find him already dressed except for his bow tie, which hangs undone around his neck. The sight of him in formal wear still hits me with unexpected force. "Having trouble?"
He waves at the tie with a grimace. "YouTube tutorials only get you so far. I've never needed to wear one of these before."
"Here," stepping in close, my hands raise to his collar. "Let me."
My fingers work like I've done it with him a hundred times before. The smell of his shampoo and the warmth of his body as he stands so near make it hard to focus.
"Where'd you learn to do this?" he asks, his voice slightly lower than usual.
"Boarding school," I focus on the tie to avoid looking him in the eye. "Formal dinners once a week. You either learned to tie a proper bow tie or faced detention."
"Sounds intense for a kid."
"It was character building, according to the brochures." Finishing the tie, I step back to assess my work. "There. Perfectly presentable."
"Thanks." He reaches up to touch the tie, his fingers brushing where mine were. "So, what's our game plan for tonight? Rules of engagement?"
The question reminds me that this is all strategic, a performance with agreed-upon parameters. "It's a smaller event than the main campaign functions," I explain. "Maybe a hundred people, mostly local donors and supporters. My father won't attend in person; he's in Washington this week, but my mother will host."
"And how should I behave? Full boyfriend mode or toned down?"
"Somewhere in between. Affectionate but appropriate. These people are conservative, but they'll be watching how we interact."
"Holding hands is okay?"
"Yes, that's fine." The thought of his hand in mine all evening sends an unexpected thrill through me. "And maybe an arm around my waist in group settings. Nothing too possessive, but enough to establish the relationship."
He nods, taking this all very seriously. "And if anyone asks how we met?"
"The truth is simple enough. Same fraternity, got to know each other over late nights and shared interests."
"Leaving out the part where we couldn't stand each other at first?"
I smile even though I’m nervous. "Let's call it a slow burn rather than mutual hate."
Another knock at my door, and I open it to find Gavin beaming at us in his typical golden retriever fashion.
"Dudes!" he exclaims. "You look amazing! Like prom kings or something!"
"We're going to a charity event, Gavin," but his enthusiasm is hard to resist.
"Well, you both look hot," he declares. "James, I didn't even know you owned anything but hoodies and jeans. Who knew you were hiding all that under the hoodies?"
James rolls his eyes, but I catch the slight flush on his cheeks. "It's just a suit."
"Dude, it's a suit that makes you look like James Bond's taller, hotter brother," Gavin insists. "Caleb, your boy cleans up good!"
"He does," I agree before I can stop myself, earning a surprised look from James.
"Anyway," Gavin continues, oblivious to the moment, "Drew wanted me to tell you guys the car service is outside. Fancy!"
"It's my mother's doing," I explain. "She insists on proper transportation."
"Well, have fun at your fancy party!" Gavin says, backing out of the doorway. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
"That leaves our options dangerously open," James comments dryly once he's gone.
