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Whatevs.
You’re only young and in college once. A few drunken sexy parties come with the territory, right?
A loud chime booms from the sound system.
I take the stairs carefully, one at a time, careful not to trip on my long skirt and break my neck. Luckily, I answer the door before any staff beat me to the punch.
Marnie stands there grinning with Mr. Tangerine Man snug on her arm. She’s decked out in this red botanical dress full of abstract shapes that looks like it belongs in a lounge from the Roaring Twenties.
Her date cleaned up halfway decent, too. He looks a little more civilized in his suit, even if it seems like it’s a size too small.
“Delia, darling!” She gives me her best cringey high-class accent, pecking me sharply on each cheek. “Where’s your handsome soldier boy?”
The warm smile I greet her with vanishes.
She’s already way too fixated on my badass date, tempting me to tell her point-blank why he’s off-limits.
Because apparently her own man with abs you could cook an egg on isn’t reason enough.
But I force my sweetest smile and nod politely at the beast-man behind her, and then lean in.
“He’ll be here soon, Marnie. Why don’t you guys go mingle? The bar’s open and stocked up with everything worth sipping. Mix your guy a mojito for a change!”
“Oh, fine. We’ll do it your way.” She rolls her eyes and stalks past in a huff.
Crisis averted. For now.
I’m about to head after her, hoping I can smooth things over, but somebody grabs me by the shoulder just as I start moving.
I know it’s Chris before we’re face-to-face and his lips are on mine.
Nobody else touches me like the man who holds a deed to every square inch of me.
“Sneaky jerk,” I hiss once his tongue glides off mine. “Did they teach you kissing ambushes when you were a SEAL?”
“Nah. Handling my woman comes naturally. I came ready for you tonight, princess. And fuck, you’re looking the part tonight.” He steps back with a hot glint in his eye so I can finally see his costume.
Call me Cinderella.
I almost fall over into his arms, swooning my life out like some awestruck regency romance heroine.
His formal uniform clings tight to the hard, tattooed muscle underneath.
It’s an elegant white jacket that’s almost tuxedo-like, studded with enough medals on one side to shame a Christmas tree.
The buttons part his magnificent chest evenly.
When I look up to his face again, I notice the final touch. I can’t stop laughing with amazement.
“Abow tie?Are you freaking kidding?”
“That was my touch. It’s not totally up to code, but close enough.” He smiles and shrugs. “Guess you’ve never seen a Navy dinner dress before. You wanted your prince, so here the fuck he is.”
“Um, I meant something more fairy tale like...”
His eyebrows shoot up.
“You’re telling me this ain’t good enough, Your Highness?” He thumps his chest, his eyes flashing knowingly.
