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“You carried it off.”
“I needed room everywhere I walked. The crowd would part when they saw me approach.”
“Yet I was still able to get close enough to kiss you.” I smile. “Well, you were the one who kissed me.”
She smiles as well. More like a faint curling of her lips, but I’m counting it. “I still can’t believe I did that.”
“I can’t believe you did it either. What came over you?” I lean against the island, my elbow nudging aside a wide bracelet, and she shifts closer, reaching over to push the bracelet out of my way so I don’t knock it on the floor.
Now she’s even closer, her chest brushing against mine, and I swear to God, she’s not wearing a bra under that strappy little shirt she has on. It’s thin, made of cotton or linen, I don’t even know, and it’s faintly see-through. If I squint, I think I can see the outline of her nipples.
“I don’t know what came over me,” she admits, her voice soft. “You seemed almost... desperate.”
“I was.” There’s no point in trying to hide it. I wasn’t about to turn into a colossal fuckup in front of a photographer and allow him to capture the moment for all time.
“And I felt sorry for you,” she adds.
Ouch. Truth hurts. And that sucks.
“Plus, I was mad. At... Ian.” She takes a step back, as if she’s suddenly shying away from me.
The mention of Ian the idiot douses any flames that were flickering between us. “Can I be real with you for a sec?”
“Sure.”
“From what you’ve told me about him, I’m pretty sure Ian is a fucking idiot.”
A myriad of emotions shines in her eyes. Surprise. A hint of irritation. A douse of pleasure. As if it pleases her that I called him an idiot. “That’s probably a little harsh, don’t you think?”
“Nope. I stand by my original assessment.” I clamp my lips shut, stifling the emotion bubbling up in me. “The guy is an asshole.”
“Why do you say that?” She tilts her head to the side, like she genuinely wants to know my reasoning.
“If I was that guy and you were crushing on me, I would’ve been honest with you from the start whether I liked you or not. And if I felt the same way you did, I would’ve done everything in my power to show you how I feel about you a long time ago. If you were mine, I’d never let you out of my sight.”
She’s quiet, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and my gaze drops there, skimming over all that golden skin on display. The hint of cleavage. One of the straps slips off her shoulder, falling halfway down her upper arm, and without thought I reach out and very carefully, very slowly push it back into place, my fingertips lingering on her supple skin.
Goose bumps appear where I touched her, her breath stuttering. I don’t remove my fingers from her shoulder. Instead, I let them drift down, tracing her skin, noting how soft it is.
So fucking soft.
“Scarlett! Are you in here? Darling, where are you?”
My hand drops from her arm, and we both turn to find her mother standing in her closet doorway, a knowing smile on her face.
“What are you two doing hiding away in the closet, hmm?” Gloria Lancaster arches a brow, her lips curved into a knowing smile. Her gaze flickers to mine, and she doesn’t appear upset at finding me in here with her only daughter.
If anything, she looks downright thrilled.
Scarlett brushes past me, her words coming fast. “I was just showing him my closet, Mom. That’s all. No big deal.”
The girl needs to learn how to be chill around her mother when it comes to us. Nothing happened in here, yet she sounds guilty as hell.
“I’m just surprised, is all. You never show anyone your closet, Scarlett.” Gloria studies me, and I see the curiosity in her gaze. I’m sure her mother is wondering what makes me so special compared to everyone else. For one, the beloved, idiotic Ian. “Aren’t you the lucky one, Tate?”
Yes.
I most definitely am.
