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He leans closer. His knee slides between my legs.
"Or jeans." I bite my lip. I press my palms into my thighs so I won't feel the fabric of his slacks. "Same black button up shirt."
"You starting a fashion blog?" He cocks a brow.
"No. Just. I, um..." My hands refuse to listen to my brain. My fingers brush the top of his thigh. The fabric is soft. Thin. And he goes commando. Ahem. "You look really nice. Handsome. Extra handsome."
"Thank you."
"You're supposed to say I look nice," I tease.
He gives me a quick once over. For a split second, his eyes linger on my chest. Then they're back on my eyes. "You look gorgeous." He leans in to whisper. "But you already knew that."
I shake my head.
He leans closer enough his breath warms my ear. "Bullshit."
My cheek brushes against his as I lean in to whisper. "Look around. I'm out of my weight class here."
"You shouldn't fish for compliments." He brushes my hair from my shoulder. "You know you're a pretty girl."
Maybe. But I still want to hear him say it. I want to know he wants me. I take a deep breath. I keep my voice even. "I don't want to be pretty. I want to be sexy."
His fingers skim my waist. He leans in to whisper. "You're fucking irresistible, Piper." He pulls back. His dark eyes fix on mine. "But we're here to celebrate school. We should talk about your mind, not your body."
"If I'm going to be an actor, my body will be one of my tools. How I look will matter."
"Does that bother you?"
"I haven't really thought about it." I hold his gaze. "Does it bother you?"
He nods.
"Really?"
"It's worth it. But I get tired of doing this—" He runs his hand through his hair and shoots me a panty-melting smirk. "In photoshoots. You ever see the poster?"
"There's a poster?"
He chuckles. "We've all got posters." He pulls his cell phone from his pocket, taps a few things, and offers it to me.
"You never got a new number." I stare into his eyes as I take the phone.
"You failed to remind me."
"Am I about to get assaulted with a naked picture message and a plea to come on some woman's tits." My cheeks flush. "I mean... you know what I mean."
"I don't," he teases. "How would you manage that angle?"
My blush spreads to my chest.
Kit's gaze follows.
The phone's browser is open to a product page of an online mega-retailer.
It's a poster of Kit lying in bed in a white t-shirt. His skinny jeans are slung low on his hips. Low enough to show off those gorgeous v-lines.
He's staring with fuck me eyes.
