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“That sounds amazing.”
His brow quirked. “Undressing with me in here?”
“No! I mean—” I couldn’t think. He was scrambling my every thought. “I meant the sweats!”
He strutted back a step, looking far too pleased with himself. “But?”
“But what about you? You’re going to be jealous of me in my comfy clothes while you’re still all dressed up.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I could change, too. If you want me to.”
Good grief. We really needed to stop talking about undressing.
I withdrew another step. I needed distance from him. This conversation was far too fueling.
Keeping his eyes on me, he slid out of his jacket. Hanging it on one of the hooks, he tugged the edge of his bowtie. It came loose and dangled from his collar.
The single action—and the directness of his gaze—held far too much sway.
He needed to do that somewhere else.
“This could be our very own ball,” he said, loosening his collar next. “I haven’t gotten the chance to dance with you.”
“In sweats and T-shirts?”
“Why not?” He moved to an open drawer. In a swift motion, he retrieved another pair of sweats and a shirt, holding them to his side.
“I’ll just change out here,” he said, gesturing with his head toward the door.
My face grew hotter. He sure wasn’t moving very fast. He wasn’t waiting for some kind of invitation, was he?
I chewed my lip and stepped toward the door. Toward him.
Hawk retreated.
Another step.
Another retreat.
The closer I got to him, the more tension sizzled between us. His sultry gaze was glued to mine, filled with tempting promises.
I reached.
He leaned closer in response.
His husky scent wafted toward me. His nearness wasmaddening.
I froze in the moment, caught in his snare. His eyes flicked to my mouth, and my pulse skittered.
Ramming sense in, I found what I was looking for: the doorknob.
“I’ll be out in a second,” I said, closing the door and rooting him the rest of the way out.
I folded my dress carefully. The speckled, red stains saddened me, but on the scale of ruined things, a damaged dress was better than, say, targeting my reputation or something, which I wouldn’t put past Pris to do.
I’d probably be eating ramen noodles at every meal for the next month to make up for what I’d spent on the fabric of the other dress, but the time I’d wasted prepping that dress had also purchased an evening with Hawk. If I hadn’t wasted so much time onnotfinishing it, he would never have had a reason to surprise me the way he had.
I wouldn’t have traded tonight for anything.
