And then the unthinkable happened. Dad actually stood up to Mom. When she suggested Brayden stay at a hotel out of spite, I thought for sure Dad would agree. But he insisted Brayden stay here, and my heart swelled with hope that maybe Dad is capable of standing up to Mom.
Of course she had to have the final word by reminding me that Brayden would need a tux for tonight. I could’ve argued, but she’s right. Brayden will stick out at the event like a sore thumb if he’s not wearing a tux. Which is why our first stop after we ate breakfast—and I changed into something more comfortable since I wouldn’t be around my mom—was the tuxedo shop my father frequents to have Brayden fitted for a tux. I told the salesman not to let him see the price and offered to pay extra to have it altered on rush.
Once that was out of the way, we spent the rest of the day playing tourists—well, Brayden wasn’t playing… he really is one. I showed him all the popular sights, and we ate lunch at my favorite bistro. Being here with him made me realize I don’t hate this city, just my mom. I love everything else about it. Its fast pace, the over-the-top, extravagant people. The way it’s full of life and character and contains so much diversity. I can see myself making a life here. The problem is, in order to do that, I would be near my mom. And I like my sanity too much to be close to her ever again. Maybe one day I’ll be able to come back, but for now, I’m glad I have Michigan to go back to.
I also realized how much I really like Brayden. Away from the stress of school and our personal issues, we were able to focus on each other. We spent the day laughing and flirting and having a good time. I stopped checking to see if Ashton had texted and enjoyed my time with a guy who wants me. A guy who enjoys my company and isn’t afraid to show it, and it felt really good. So good, I was sad when the guy from the tuxedo shop called to let me know we could pick up Brayden’s tux. It meant our fun, carefree day had to come to an end.
“What do you think?” Brayden spreads his arms out wide. He’s dressed in a three-piece black Tom Ford suit with Armani loafers, and I can’t take my eyes off him. His shirt is white and his tie is black and white checkered. Brayden is sexy on a normal day, when he’s dressed in his jeans and T-shirts, but right now, dressed to the nines, he looks exceptionally delectable.
“I think you look damn good,” I tell him honestly, not caring that I’m blatantly eye-fucking him in front of the salesman. All day our flirting has gotten more heated. It started with sweet kisses, then moved to hand holding. At lunch, Brayden’s hand landed on my thigh, and while we were walking to the tuxedo shop, he pushed me into a small alleyway and devoured me against the wall. At this point, I have no doubt I’m soaking wet and needing to find some kind of relief—hopefully by the hands of Brayden.
“Perfect,” the salesman says. “Are you planning to wear it out?”
“Yes,” I tell him, checking the time. “We actually need to get going. I still need to stop by the house to get ready.”
“Oh, uh… How much do I owe you?” Brayden asks. I can see it in his eyes he’s nervous. He didn’t consider how much it would cost. But I’m not about to let something like money ruin today.
“It’s no charge,” I tell him. “My dad has an account with them.”
He looks like he wants to argue, so I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him, hoping it’ll distract him. I know it works when he groans into my mouth, his fingers fisting my mane, as he deepens the kiss.
The salesman clears his throat and Brayden smirks.
“Let’s go,” I say, taking his hand and pulling him out of the store. “My parents are already on their way to the event, which means we have the house to ourselves.” I glance back and see Brayden’s eyes turn molten with lust.
We jump into my parents’ town car, and the second the door closes, Brayden’s mouth is back on mine. While we drive through the streets of Hollywood Hills, we kiss, our tongues frantically moving against each other.
When the car pulls up to the front, we both jump out. And the moment we’re in my room, I’m back on Brayden, ripping off each layer of his tux. It’s like opening a beautifully wrapped present on Christmas morning. The wrapping paper is nice, but what you really want is what’s underneath.