Steal My Breath (Elixir 1)

* * *

Luke arrives early.

I’m not ready.

The room is in chaos, and so am I.

I fling the door open and eye him wildly. “You’re early.” It comes out like an accusation.

His lips twitch as his eyes roam my body. “Tell me you don’t answer the door like that to everyone. Please.”

I look down at what I’m wearing.

Oh, hell.

What the fuck was I thinking?

I throw my arms across my body trying to cover myself. I’ve answered the door dressed only in my lingerie—one of my bras that covers very little and pushes my tits up and out, and panties that consist mostly of string. Well, it may as well be string.

He walks into my room. “There’s no need to cover up. I’ve seen it all before, Callie.”

Ignoring him, I wrench open the cupboard and locate the dress I’ve decided to wear tonight. I rip it off the coat hanger and throw it over my head. In my haste, the zipper gets stuck in my hair.

Fuck.

Please, God, fix this.

Now.

I wiggle and squirm trying to either get the dress on or off. At this point, I don’t care which works so long as the dress isn’t sitting where it is, covering my face with my arms up in the air and my body exposed to Luke.

“Here, let me help,” he says. Before I can protest, he moves close—so close—and places his hands on my dress. He begins trying to separate my hair from the zip, and I commence hyperventilating. His body is way too close for me.

Why did I say yes to dinner?

He eventually untangles my hair from the zip, and just when I’m sending prayers of thanks to the heavens, he slides the dress into place. His hands smooth the dress over my body before moving to do up the zip.

In desperation to stop the madness, I spin around and slap his hands away. “I’ve got this,” I mutter.

He watches me with amusement but doesn’t argue. I step in front of the mirror and almost die when I see the birds nest my hair is now in.

Can this ni

ght get any worse?

I head into the bathroom to fix it. Thankfully Luke stays put in the other room. I hear the TV switch on and sigh in relief. He’s got something to occupy himself while I do my hair and make-up.

It takes a good fifteen minutes to make myself presentable. When I head out of the bathroom, I find Luke lounging on my bed, his back to the bedhead, his legs spread out in front of him, ankles crossed.

My heart skips a beat at the sight, and I reach for the wall to steady myself.

He doesn’t seem to notice, thank God, and I continue on my way to finish getting ready.

“I just need to pack my bag.”

He frowns. “Pack your bag?”

I nod at the side of the bed he’s not occupying. “Yeah, my handbag. I dumped everything on the bed when I was looking for something earlier.”