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A dark-green slightly loose string dress.
Boots—they’ll come off right away, maybe after my panties.
Makeup—I’ve never put on makeup as many times in my life as I have here on Zion. But that’s another thing about women’s psychology. We doll up even when the guy is already into us, like peacocks spreading our colorful feathers. Wait, it’s male peacocks that do that. I laugh at the thought as I walk to Cliff Villa, my heart racing in anticipation as I approach.
We used to play a cat-and-mouse game. Now we are in a relationship that’s almost as fragile as a house of cards, and I so desperately want it to work out.
Yeah, guys hustle before a date too—I hold back a grin as I swipe my gaze along Archer’s body when I walk in.
He’s dressed in jeans and a black button-up, casually untucked, sleeves rolled up, unbuttoned at the neck. But I can tell his tasseled hair is too perfect—he’s spent time on it, the sight as sexy as a waft of his cologne when he kisses me on the cheek.
“Aaaye, look at you, miss!”
Alma’s voice makes me turn around. The maid’s hands are clasped at her chest in prayer as she studies me with genuine admiration.
“Have a good evening, Mr. Crone.” She bows slightly, beaming as Archer graces her with his smile, and leaves.
“She’s made dinner for us.”
“Do you ever cook?” I ask Archer as he walks me out onto the terrace by the pool, a small table with candles, flowers, and silverware set up in the center.
I have butterflies in my stomach—it’s an actual date.
“No,” Archer replies. I can’t picture him cooking anyway.
I set my phone on the table and take several steps toward the pool.
It’s getting dark, but the terrace is set in a warm glow of the lanterns and the blue pool lights.
This pool has seen many of my and Archer’s moments. Now it’s witnessing a date.
My phone beeps, then again, and again in a fast warning succession.
I have no interest in answering, not when I’m with Archer. The world can wait.
It beeps again, and I turn to see Archer glance at it with curiosity.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, hands in his pockets as he openly studies me.
“For food?” I ask, innocently raising my brows.
He chuckles.
The phone beeps again, pulling Archer’s gaze from me.
“Someone wants you tonight,” he says, picking it up. “It might be another Ayana drama.” He frowns at the lit-up screen, then swipes it open as he takes several steps toward me.
“Trust me, I’m in no mood for anyone but you,” I answer cockily when Archer suddenly stops, his smile disappearing.
“What is this?”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, except his expression is suddenly way too serious for my liking.
Slowly, he raises his gaze at me. “What the fuck is this, Kat?”
Nothing can ruin tonight, except some stupid joke, or another prank picture.
I take the phone from his hand.
