“She’ll come around. Family is hard. Believe me, I know,” I say as reassuringly as I can.
“You never talk about your family, and you talk abouteverything.” She laughs softly. “But just so you know, you can talk to me about them. When you want to, that is.”
“I know," I reply. "You've already got a lot on your plate and I don't want to burden you."
She smirks, glancing at me. "See. You can be thoughtful sometimes."
"I never said I wasn't."
"I know. I just said it in my head."
As we drive over, I try and remember the countless stories she has told me about her dad. From what I’ve heard he’s probably the only person that Wren truly loves apart from her friends. When she talks about him, she doesn’t hold back anything like she does with her mom. She doesn't talk about him as if he's simply just the person responsible for creating her.
She told me about how much she adores him; how grateful she is to have him as a dad while her mom was hard on her. Over the last three days she’s been quizzing me on the things that her dad likes and what he doesn’t. She drops another ambiguous message as we merge into more traffic.
“Cream cheese,” she mentions flippantly, keeping her eyes focused on the road. I never found women driving so attractive until her. She just looks so in control and fuck me if it doesn’t turn me on.
“Like or dislike?” I ask.
“Loathe,” she growls, slowly turning to me, her eyebrows knitted together. I widen my eyes and slouch back in my seat, trying to suppress my laugh.
“Okay,” I whistle. ‘No cream cheese.”
“Neverany cream cheese.”
*
The hotel looks a lot fancier than I imagined. I have to crane my head back to take in all the storeys of sleek black glass from top to bottom. The inside has gold accents across most major centrepieces and along the railings, giving it a regal touch as a grand piano sits in the foyer. Her dadownsthis? It’s insane.
Wren navigates us around as if she works here. She seems so natural at this, as she links her arm in mine, walking us around. So comfortable. She talks to the staff as if they are old friends that she needs to catch up with. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they are. There is still so much that I feel like I don’t know about her. So much that I’m dying to know.
We make our way through the glass elevator to our suite which seems to take up most of the top floor. There are three main rooms: the master bedroom with a California king sized bed, a huge bathroom, and a living room space with a mini bar. Obviously, we’re not legally allowed to drink so everything is empty, but it’s still cool regardless.
“So, I guess I’m sleeping on the couch,” I say when I return the bedroom. Wren has begun unpacking her things onto the hangers neatly, walking back and forth from her suitcase on the bed to the closet. I don’t understand why she insisted on bringing so many clothes for such a short trip.
“Miles. I had to through the troubel of having to explain to my dad that I wanted sperate beds. He's doing the whole 'I trust you' thing. Plus, this bed could fit like three times the size of us on here and there would still be room. We can share it for one night, right?” Wren explains, turning around to me. “You probably won’t even notice I’m there.”
“Okay but no funny business,” I relay, mainly reminding myself to keep it in my pants. I could nevernotnotice her. She laughs and walks towards me.
“It’s you, you should be worried about, not me,” she says into my ear quietly, her hand on my bicep. She brushes past me gently as I swallow. Hard.
This is going to be a great fucking weekend.
After an hour of dilly dallying, we’re finally getting ready for the gala. I’m stood in front of the wide full-length mirror, watching a YouTube video on how to tie my bow tie. I don’t know I let Evan talk me out of getting a clip on one. He said something about making a good impression. I’m grunting with frustration when I see a glimpse of her in the mirror behind me. Her eyes lock with mine and I don’t bother to hide my libido. She looks devastating.
She’s dressed in a dark blue evening gown, her tits looking perfect, stuck in the thin straps. Her blonde hair is tied back into a neat bun with a small silver clip. Her silver earrings dangle almost to her shoulders which match with her heels. She walks towards me, painfully slowly and my hands fumble around my tie.
“Need help with that?” she asks gently, gesturing towards my bow tie. I nod, basically foaming at the mouth. When did I forget how to speak?
Her delicate hands come towards my neck as she unties the knot I made. Very slowly. I watch as her hands work at the mess I made, and I try and swallow. She looks up at me, smirking, before looking back down to my tie. I can't ignore the breathiness in her voice as she asks, “What?”
“Promise me you’ll come back here with me tonight,” I get out when I find my voice. Her eyebrows furrow. She looks up at me, but I watch her in the mirror.
“What do you mean?”
“You look…fucking stunning, Wren,” I whisper, and I make the mistake of looking at her properly. Her wide green-brown eyes stare into mine, her lips slightly parted. “I’m just saying I won’t be surprised if someone tried to take you home with them.”
“The only person taking me home tonight is you,” she murmurs. My heart skips multiple beats as I almost topple over. I know it shouldn’t take this long for her to tie my tie, but her hands are still on me, even when I can see it’s done.
