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“I know,” I smirked.
I was being smart with him, and though I was doing it again—treading into dangerous territory—he wore a hint of a smile on for me this time. Probably because I was grinning with such amusement for the whole situation.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll spare you the back story of my teenaged love of demi-cup bras and lacy garters.”
He nodded but said, “I know it anyway. You’re not the only one who can put two and two together, Holland.”
“Oh, no? Enlighten me then.”
Iain smirked, drawing my eyes to his gorgeous lips as he took a drink from his glass.
“Your mother thought skinny jeans were provocative. Considering she wouldn’t let you dress yourself or wear makeup, it isn’t hard to figure out why you’d find yourself enamored with a company that sold female sex appeal.”
I paused, my eyes shifting to the side as I processed his completely spot-on reading.
“That’s… correct,” I said slowly, openly impressed. “The phrasing wasn’t quite so streamlined in my head, but yeah. That’s completely right.”
Iain laughed. “I know.”
I rolled my eyes at his response but smiled, letting out a bit of a sigh.
“Yeah, I used to have a friend named Kelsey… you met her a few times, but you probably don’t remember her,” I said, and considering no shred of recognition registered on Iain’s face, I was right. “Her older sister used to get Minx catalogues in the mail, and we’d steal them every time and go through them during lunch and just die over how pretty and lacy and sexy everything was. We wanted so badly to be like those girls, and eventually, we convinced her sister to help us order some pieces. And I’d just be quietly thrilled wearing it under my clothes at home as like… my silly little form of rebellion against my mom.”
I watched as some amusement faded from Iain’s expression. But he said nothing, so I went on.
“Even after the whole… thing happened my junior year at school,” I swallowed at the mere mention of it, “and I wasn’t friends with Kelsey anymore, I found a way to keep ordering Minx here and there with like, money my grandma would sneak me when she visited,” I laughed, my gaze floating off as I got lost in my memories. But I wasn’t so far gone that I couldn’t recognize the hilarity of my grandma-funded lingerie collection. “I don’t know,” I giggled softly. “I was young and angsty and it just made me feel like one part of me was my decision. My taste. Even if no one could see it, I knew it, and I felt it. And it made a difference for me somehow,” I said, quiet for a second, reveling in fresh delight for the fact that I actually worked for this company now. Then
I felt a rush of blood flood my cheeks and my lips, and I looked up at Iain, well aware that I was about to push it with him. But I said it anyway. “I used to wear it around you.”
His expression had already hardened, but it turned to something fully humorless at the sound of my words, and that signature sternness returned to his voice as he said, “I don’t want to know that, Holland."
Ugh.
Why did I get so wet when he took that tone with me?
My eyes teased him over the rim of my champagne flute as I sipped my Prosecco. “What? You don’t like knowing that when you were taking me for ice cream, I was wearing slutty lingerie under my—”
“Holland.”
I bit my lip. “I used to just lay in bed and think of you while I was—”
“Enough,” he growled. And I knew he was mad mad because there was no hint of expression on his face. It all stormed behind his eyes as he glared unyieldingly at me, visibly furious. But several beats of silence passed, and just like that, his voice returned to something even and smooth as he asked, “Do you enjoy testing me?”
“Apparently.”
“Why is that?”
I looked at him for a couple seconds, feeling myself partly zone out as I realized my answer to his question in real time.
“Because you’re so serious now. And different,” I replied, my gaze sinking into Iain, but my head drifting somewhere far away. “You used to be wild and crazy, but you were also warm and sweet, and I liked you more than I liked anyone I knew,” I said honestly. “I used to count down the days till your next visit, and even when you weren’t talking to me, and you were just hanging out downstairs with Adam, I felt better just knowing you were at my house. Because you were nice to me, and you looked out for me, and you were the only one who would ask my opinion on things,” I murmured, my voice almost dreamy. “But then one day you up and disappeared from my life like you’d never been in it at all, and nobody talked about it or told me why. You just stopped coming to stay at our house and you didn’t return the emails I sent to see how you were doing. You took over your dad’s agency like you said you never would, and you became this fancy New York big shot with no sense of humor, who only ever gets his way.” Adrenaline rushed through me despite the softness of my voice. “So… yeah,” I concluded with a little shrug and a smile. “It’s kind of fun to piss you off sometimes. I think you deserve it a little,” I whispered with something of a wink, as if I were letting him in on a little secret.
I had no idea where I’d gotten that surge of confidence just now.
But wow.
It felt good.
Damned good.
