Filed to story: Katy and Brayden Cooper Novel
“Yes.” I answer.
“Turning around now.” He says.
“How does it look?” I ask, stretching my arms out.
When he turns back, his gaze drags slowly over my breasts before meeting my eyes. “Hot.”
Heat floods my face and I bite down on a smile I can’t quite stop.
He bends, grabs the knee-high boots from by my wardrobe, and gestures at the bed. “Sit.”
I raise a brow at him. “What, you’re my stylist now?”
“Damn right,” he says, dropping to a squat in front of me. “Now sit Agar judgment, I obey. My knees brush his shoulder as he takes my ankle in his hand, and a rush of heat spreads up my leg. His hand is warm…too warm and I fight the urge to yank my foot back.
“Relax,” he mutters, slipping my foot into the boot. “I don’t bite.”
“That’s a lie,” I shoot back.
He smirks without looking up. “Okay, I bite. But not your feet, Peach.”
My stomach flips, and I look anywhere but down at him. The ceiling, the wardrobe, the mess on my desk…anything to avoid seeing him kneeling in front of me like that. But then he runs his palm over my calf to smooth the leather and my breath catches anyway.
“There.” He tugs the zipper up and grabs the other boot. “Other one.”
I stick my foot out, maybe a little too fast, and almost kick him in the chest.
“Whoa.” He catches my ankle with one hand. His head tilts up, and for a moment our eyes lock. His grin is lazy, like he knows exactly what kind of mess I am right now.
“You always this jumpy?” he asks.
“Only when guys kneel in front of me,” I mutter before I can stop myself.
His smirk deepens. “Good to know.”
When he finishes, he straightens, helps me up, and I face the mirror. For the first time tonight, I actually like what I see and I didn’t even have to change my skirt.
“I look good,” I say, cocking a brow at him.
He nods slowly. “You look more than good.”
He closes the distance again and my pulse jumps. His hand comes up, cupping the back of my head and my breath hitches. Is he going to kiss me? Why?
But instead he just slides out my hair tie and steps back, letting my hair tumble down my shoulders.
His eyes run over me one more time. “Much better,” he says simply.
I bite my lip and force myself to break eye contact. “So… how long do we have to stay?”
“For as long as you want.” He answers right away, like he’s been thinking about it too. “Just say the word and we’re gone.”
Good. Relief flickers through me because I don’t know how wild this party’s going to be, and the last thing I need is him dragging me deeper into it if I start to feel overstimulated.
“Bryan will be there,” he cuts into my thoughts.
“Oh.” My shoulders tighten. “I already figured that.”
His eyes stay on me. “So you know what that means?”
“Yes.” I shrug lightly. “Don’t worry. I won’t freak out when you kiss me or something.”
His eyes narrow, a hint of something darker there. “And if I want to do more than that?”
Want? Are we on a want basis now? My heart gives a weird little kick.
“I mean…” I swallow. “If you’re not crossing any boundaries, I’m cool.”
He studies me for a long moment before finally nodding. “Alright.”
KATY’S POV
I shouldn’t have come to this party. That thought hits me the second Braydon pulls into the front lawn of the Sigma frat house.
The bass from inside rattles through the car, even with the windows rolled down, and the front yard is a mess of red cups, smoke clouds, and people yelling like their vocal cords are invincible.
Seriously, does nobody care about their lungs anymore?
“You look disgusted,” Braydon says, glancing over with that smirk he always wears when he’s amused by me.
He’s not wrong. I already hate this scene, and it’s hard to imagine how anyone considers this chaos a good time.
“This is going to be a long night,” I mutter, pushing open the door. The fall air in Boston nips at my bare skin, goosebumps rising instantly as I tug my skirt down.
The moment I step out, Braydon rounds the car and slips an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. I tip my head toward him, catching his eyes.
Tonight, we have to sell the perfect couple, and perfect love act if I want Bryan’s inflated ego to suffocate him in front of everyone.
“Ready?” Braydon asks.
I flash him a smile. “More than ready.”
Together, we push our way toward the front door, squeezing past a couple grinding against the porch railing and another pair making out like the world might end tonight. The closer we get, the louder the music pounds, until the bass is in my chest and my pulse is trying to match it.
Calm down, Katy, it’s just a few hours.
But my body doesn’t listen. It never does. Situations like this always flip some internal switch, leaving me jittery and hyper-aware.
The second we make it inside, it feels like I’ve been thrown under a spotlight. And I don’t mean to exaggerate, but the room actually seems to pause for a second, eyes flicking toward us. My knees. wobble, and I curl my fingers into fists just to keep them from shaking.
There have to be at least three hundred people jammed into this house. The living room has been stripped bare, with the couches shoved against the far wall to make room for a makeshift dance floor.