Falling for My Best Friend's Brother (One Night Stand 2)

“I was.” He smiled and looked me up and down, his eyes widening as his gaze fell to my tall red heels. “You look nice tonight, Alice.”

“That’s it?” Liv walked over to the front door. “She looks nice?”

“Yes, she looks nice.” Aiden looked at Liv with an annoyed expression. “Don’t you think so?”

“Alice looks bloody gorgeous,” Liv said and shook her head. “Like a million bucks.”

“Thanks, Liv.” I laughed and I could see Aiden shaking his head at his sister.

“Yes, Alice, you do look beautiful tonight.” He reached his hand forward. “Very, very beautiful.”

“That’s more like it,” Liv said, and he groaned.

“Alice, are you ready to go?” Aiden muttered. “I’m afraid if I have to listen to my sister anymore tonight, I might go crazy.”

“I don’t have time to drive you crazy tonight, dear brother. Xander is taking me out to dinner as well.” Liv smiled at her brother and then continued. “And I know he’s taking me to a nice restaurant, not a Burger King.”

“More the fool him, then,” Aiden joked, and Liv glared at him.

“Let’s go,” I said and turned around to give Liv a quick hug. “See you later.”

“Bye, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she said, and I quickly opened my handbag and let her see the contents. “Or maybe not.” She giggled as she saw the handcuffs.

“What are you two giggling about now?” Aiden said with an interested expression, but I quickly closed my handbag again and turned back towards him.

“Nothing,” I said innocently and hurried out of the front door. “Let’s go and eat. I’m starving.”

“I’m feeling pretty hungry too,” he said, and I felt his hand slip around my waist as we made our way out of the building. “I’m just not sure what I’ll get to eat yet.”

We made our way to his car, and Aiden hurried forward so that he could open the passenger door to his what appeared to be a new black Mercedes C300. “Not driving your Lincoln Navigator anymore?” I asked in surprise.

“No, it’s at home.”

“Oh, so this is a second car?” I raised an eyebrow at him. He had a Lincoln and a Mercedes now?

“Yeah.” He nodded and then closed the door after I slid into the luxurious tan leather seat. It felt plush and warm against my bare legs, and I sank back into the seat with a happy smile on my face.

“Why did you get another car?” I asked him as he got behind the driver’s seat.

“Because I wanted to.” He shrugged. “Why? Don’t you like Mercedes?”

“They seem fine. I’ve never been in one before.”

“Oh. They’re very smooth.” He turned on the engine and looked over at me. “Hear how it purrs for me?”

“No, not really.” I shook my head, and he put his hand to his ear and growled.

“You don’t hear that?”

“No, and thank God. If I heard that sound coming from your engine, I wouldn’t still be in your car.”

“Touché.” He laughed. “Okay, are you ready to eat?”

“I’ve been ready.”

“How is your knee?” His right hand reached down and touched my leg. My skin tingled as his fingertips gently brushed across my skin and to my kneecap.

“It’s okay. It tingles a bit, but it will be okay.”

“Good.” His fingers moved back up my leg and up my thigh, and my breath caught as they worked their way towards the middle of my leg. “I love your dress, by the way,” he said and moved his fingers back to the steering wheel.

“Thank you,” I said and looked over at him. “You look very dapper in your shirt and tie.”

“I’m glad you appreciate the tie.”

“I always appreciate a tie,” I said, and he looked at me with a smile.

“In all circumstances.”

“Yes,” I said, barely breathing as he gazed at me.

“Good.” He changed the gears suddenly and pulled out into the street.

“Where are we going?” I asked him as we zipped along the road with the other cars.

“I figured I’d take you out for a nice steak dinner,” he said as I adjusted in the seat and fiddled with the radio. “Anything but Top 40, please.”

“What’s wrong with Top 40? I love Top 40.”

“I don’t need to hear Katy Perry or Beyoncé screeching in my ear about how they love being single.”

“They don’t screech. And they aren’t single.” I rolled my eyes at him. I stopped on a country music station and looked at him. “Is this better?”

“Nope. I don’t want to hear about anyone taking their dog and their pickup truck to the lake to get over their ex.”

“That’s horrible.” I laughed. “Not every country music song is about pickup trucks.”

“There’s enough for me to veto this station.”

“What about this one?” I stopped it on a Spanish station and we listened to a man singing his heart out.

“I have no idea what he’s saying.” Aiden frowned. “Something about balancing?”

“No, he’s talking about dancing.” I laughed. “Bailamos is what he’s saying, not balancing. Bailamos doesn’t even sound like balancing.”