“Good,” Kean mumbled, nodding before walking to the fitting room.
“Holler if you need different sizes of anything,” I shouted after him before turning to the other two with narrowed eyes. “What’re you guys doing? Did you come along just to tease Kean? I expected better of you, Taylor.”
“Wow, that hurts,” Brooker murmured.
“We’re not teasing him,” Taylor assured.
“Then what’s with all the hand movements? Were you flipping him off?”
“Can you believe she thinks so little of us?”
“Ofyou? Yes. But Kodi, we’re just … helping the guy out. He’s gotta dress up, show off, then maybe go on a date with a stranger. He’s nervous.”
“Oh.” I joined them on the couch, shoulders sinking. “I didn’t think about that part of it. Is he nervous or anxious?”
“What’s the difference?” Brooker asked.
“Like, is he not looking forward to it or is making him lose sleep?”
Both of them shrugged before sharing a look.
“But it’d probably make him feel better if he knew who was bidding on him,” Brooker suggested, eyes on the floor.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll know some of the donors.” Though even as I said that, I realized since Kean didn’t go to these kind of events, he probably wouldn’t know anyone.
“I’d bid on him, but I think that’d piss him off more than no one bidding on him.”
“Oh my god!” I gasped. “I hadn’t even thought about that! Do you think no one’ll bid on him?”
Again the boys shared a look and shrugged.
Fuck, if no one bid on him after I forced Kean to do this, he’d never do these sort of things again. He’d go back to shunning thesocial aspect of being in a professional league and shorten his time with the Dastards. And subsequently mine.
I shot up to my feet and went over to Kean’s fitting room and knocked, he murmured something and I heard the click of the latch.
“Kean, are you —” I started to say as I cracked open the door, but abruptly stopped when I saw he was bent over to pull up the slacks. His ass was pointed at me, plump enough to make my hands twitch, and I was rendered speechless as he slid the fabric up thick thighs that had an even dusting of light hair.
“Yeah?” Kean said, straightening up and turning to me as he tucked his … bits in to zip up the pants.
Heat seared through me and I pulled the door shut in a panic.
“Shit, that was ballsy,” Brooker murmured from the couch.
The door was pulled from my hand as Kean opened it back up, pants zipped, but shirt only half buttoned.
“What was that about?” he asked, brow furrowed like he was confused bymyreaction.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you were … incident.” I couldn’t look at Kean, my eyes were glued to a mannequin to his right.
“I wasn’t?” he said like he wasn’t super sure of that fact. He looked over my shoulders and shook his head. “Could you help with these buttons? They’re … stiff.”
“Oh.” I’m not a hundred percent sure I’d be able to look at Kean for a solid forty-eight hours, but if Ididn’thelp him out now, that’d be like admitting I was checking him out. “Sure.”
Swallowing a lump in my throat, I stepped up to Kean. I kept my eyes on the buttons as I worked them and pretended like I couldn’t smell the sweet vanilla and shea butter of his body wash.
“So what was it you wanted?” he asked as I reached his collar bone.
“Oh, I wanted to know if you’re nervous about the event and … who might bid on you.”
