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Would I trip as I walked up the stairs to collect my diploma? I’d never worn heels so high before. It was probably a dumb idea. What if the small points stuck in the grass as I walked to my seat and I face-planted in front of an entire stadium of people?
Eh, except for Vienna, I never planned to see any of those people again. So, who cared? Not like most of them knew me anyway.
I had my head flipped over and was working a wide-bristle brush through my hair while aiming the blow dryer at it when I sensed movement. Roman’s bare feet came into my field of vision.
I flicked the dryer off and flipped my hair back, standing straight. “You’re up.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He lazily stretched his arms over his head and braced his hands on the doorframe, allowing me to study his naked torso. My gaze dipped to the sweat shorts hanging loosely at his hips. It was such a casually sexy pose, my brain fizzled.
“Juliet? You all right? Are you nervous about today?” Concern crept into his voice with each question. He stepped forward and tugged the blow dryer from my hands. “Let me help you.”
I reached out and traced my fingers over his abs. “Sorry, I was momentarily distracted. Morning looks good on you.”
He chuckled and ducked his head. A slight pink spread over his cheeks.
How could he be embarrassed? “This can’t be news to you, Mr. Hawkins.” I hooked my fingers in the waistband of his shorts and yanked him closer. “I thought I showed you last night how sexy I think you are.”
“You sure did.” He cupped my hips and leaned in to drop a kiss on my forehead. “But if you keep giving me those bedroom eyes, you’re going to miss your graduation.” He waved his hand in the air in a hurry-up motion. “Flip your hair over again.”
I grabbed my brush and bent at the waist, shaking my hair out before brushing it smooth. The hot air from the dryer followed my hands and after a few minutes, I stood straight, grabbed my round brush, and styled my wild hair into place.
“That’s good!” I shouted over the noise of the dryer and flashed a thumbs-up at Roman.
He flicked it off. “You look fantastic.”
“Thanks.” I picked up a small barrette and clicked it open and closed a few times. “I feel like I should pull it up or back or something, but it’ll be easier to get the cap on if I leave it down.”
“Probably.” He wiggled his fingers toward my barrette. “Bring your clip thingie. In case you change your mind.”
I smiled at “clip thingie.” Such a guy phrase. “I’m going to pack some stuff in case I need it. Will you mind holding onto it for me?”
“Whatever you need.” He popped another quick kiss on my forehead. “Come on, though. You’re going to be late. You need me to make breakfast?”
“I ate when I got up. Sorry—”
“Juliet, I can feed myself. Go get ready.”
I scurried into the living room. A glance at the clock lit a fire under my butt and I raced up the stairs to the bedroom. My phone was buzzy dancing across the nightstand and I scooped it up.
“Hey, V.”
“You need me to pick you up?” she asked.
As much as I was dying to take a ride on Roman’s new motorcycle, I didn’t want to risk ruining my pretty dress. “Actually, yes. We never picked up my car last night. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Nope. Gives me an excuse to get away from my parents. They’re driving me nuts.”
Her parents were hell-bent on her going to dental school and joining the family practice one day. I could picture them lecturing her about only making it into the top ten in our class. “I bet.”
“Ugh. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Sheesh. I shouldn’t have spent so much time on my hair.
We hung up and I hurried to strap myself into the new bra and panties, found a slip, and finally tugged the dress off its hanger.
“Need help?” Roman asked.
I jumped and turned. “To zip it, yeah.”
He approached slowly. “I’m afraid of dirtying it with my grubby hands.”
“You’re not grubby.”
Warm, rough hands skated down my spine. Heat from his body simmered against my back. His soft lips brushed against my shoulder. “It pains me to cover you up,” he said in a rough voice.
A happy shiver danced down my spine. “I promise you can take it off as soon as we get home.”
He kissed my shoulder again before sliding the zipper into place.
I turned and tugged the fabric away from my hips as if I was about to dip into a curtsy. “What do you think?”
“It’s different.”
My eyes widened. “You don’t like it on me?”
“I didn’t say that. It’s…colorful. Bolder than what you normally wear.” He shrugged. “It’s pretty on you.”
