Mission For Love (Love By Design 6) - Page 36

“Oh good, we’re on the same page them.”

“Sadly, I still have keys to the field house and reserve the right to revisit that suggestion.” He said.

I nodded compromising. “Noted. let me know how you feel about the Elvis costume.”

“What the fuck.” He deadpanned and busted out laughing.

“Elvis, David. A rock legend. It’s the sixties.”

“Hostile capture would definitely be preferable.”

“They’re seniors, it’s the same thing.” I smirked.

19

David

Begrudgingly, I walked into the auditorium trying to discretely adjust myself out of the prying eyes of hormonal students. Even the head librarian, Mrs. Cromwell, who should have retired when I was in high school was eye fucking me like a dirty calendar she kept in her tiny closet office behind the reference section. I pushed through a field of balloons that reminded me of landmines and a gaggle of cheerleaders trying to spot my chaperone date.

“Hey, Mr. Easton.” They tittered and my nose burned from their overloaded perfume.

“Ladies.” I acknowledged them and moved on. I could ask them if they’d seen Miss Roberts anywhere, but it didn’t seem like the best plan. They might hijack the rest of my night and I promised Kiara I’d meet her at the punchbowl by eight. My high tech watch already confirmed it was five past and I hustled in my tight pants.

The DJ on stage played songs while the student body danced like they were having wiggling seizures. Dances weren’t my jive, and I was forced to dodge a few football players twisting and shouting. The girls they were dating joined them.

I shuddered to think there was a time I might have willingly done this too. Actually, I was doing this. I was here for Kiara with my fingers crossed wearing these tight ass pants I feared might split open shooting rhinestones onto the gym floor causing grievous injury to our football and track teams. I pulled at the kerchief around my neck nervous that my get up would be the ultimate downfall of our athletic programs and yet my only chance of dating Kiara.

What a conundrum for sure.

Was it hot in here? It felt hot in here. It had to be a good twenty degrees hotter in this gym. As soon as I found Kiara and she saw my stupid costume I was heading outside with the kids smoking under the bleachers. That had to be better than this, no matter how much I liked her. A man had to have some self respect.

“Yo, dude! Check out the hottie in the corner.” I spun around hearing Thad Baker verbally ogle another student.

“Show some respect, Thad.” I growled bowling past them.

“Uh, yeah man. Nice suit.” The quarterback nodded backing away.

I looked in the direction he’d been so focused on and my chest tightened taking in the long legs encased in shiny white leather go-go boots. My eyes traveled upward to the short dress in vintage print. I think there was a picture somewhere of my grandmother wearing an outfit like at my parent’s house and I shuddered. This was uncomfortably weird for me coupled with visions of a hot tub time machine somewhere in the recesses of my mind.

“Nice jumpsuit.” Kiara sauntered over to me, the boots clicking on the polished wood gymnasium floor. I froze taking her in. Part of me rallied in my pants and I forced myself to think of my grandmother to will away my attraction for her.

I gulped and tugged on the damn kerchief.

“You okay, David?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking, but yeah. I’m good, why?” I coughed out not sure if Grandma was doing the trick or if I needed something stronger to get rid of my erection.

“Cause your face looks like you sucked on a lemon.”

“Nope. Just need a drink.” Alcohol would be nice, but that was off the table for me until we blew this popsicle stand.

“Lucky for you, I’m personing the punch table.” Kiara smiled and handed me a glass of red stuff. I drank it down quick and picked up another downing that in one gulp.

“Better. Thanks.” I still needed something stronger and I moved behind the table placing Kiara in front of me.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kiara wasn’t convinced and the quirk of her lips told me she knew exactly what she had done.

“Yes, you she-devil.” I growled. “You know damn well this costume is restrictive and you’re teasing me unfairly.”

Tags: M.C. Cerny Love By Design Romance
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