* * *
Ian gets outof the car and walks around to the opposite side. He opens the door and takes my hand. I accept it and set my high heel on the tarmac. He helps me out, pulling me towards him.
“God, Riley,” he sighs heavily, closing his eyes.
“What is it?”
“Have you seen yourself, by any chance? How the hell am I going to make it until the end of the night?”
“I d-don’t understand,” I stutter.
“Do you have any idea how stunning you are?”
A knot forms in my throat.
“You’re just…you.”
I think I could burst into tears.
He rests his forehead against mine and breathes in next to my lips. His hot breath gets lost in the cold night air but it does manage to warm up my nerves.
“Are you ready?”
I nod and bite my lip.
“Hell no,” he says, sighing heavily. “Don’t do that. Not tonight.”
“What?”
“What you just did.”
I look at him, not understanding.
“Don’t bite it, Riley or I might not be able to answer for myself.”
My legs quiver and a heat radiating from down below makes its way north.
It’s going to be a long night.
* * *
When we getto the hall at the Sheraton, two well-dressed men take our coats and another leads the way through to the dining hall. I follow Ian, holding tightly onto his hand. I’m nervous and out of place – I’ve never been to anything like this before.
Before entering the room, Ian bends down and comes close to my ear.
“Everything’s going to be fine. Just don’t let go of my hand, okay?”
“What…?” I ask, but I can’t finish the question, because the doors fly open and we’re hit full-on with the music, the flashes of photographers and people pushing forward wanting to shake Ian’s hand and tell him how much he’s appreciated.
Overwhelmed by the situation and feeling exposed, I freeze at the doorway, stopping Ian in his stride.
He stops and turns to me, worried.
“What’s wrong?”
“I wasn’t expecting all this.”
He gives me a crooked smile. “It’s nothing, just a bunch of crap.”
