"What are you doing?” I ask. “The class started already."
"We're late anyway, another minute won't hurt. I want to give you a present."
"Oh." I readjust the strap of my backpack on my shoulder, looking down and trying to keep the excitement from showing. No use. It runs like a current from my toes all the way up to my ears, and I grin like an idiot. "Why did you get me a present?"
"Because it's Valentine's Day. What did you get me?"
"I—didn’t..." Words fail me as I try to make sense of all this. Why should I have bought him a present? It's not like we're dating...Are we? Alarm flits in my mind until he grins.
"I'm kidding. I just bought it yesterday and didn't want to wait to give it to you."
"What is it?" I make a mental note to find a way to get back at him for fooling me. Though I won't deny, the thought of dating him, even if it was an illusion, was wonderful. On second thought, I should get back at him for not making the dream last longer. Or making it real.
"I'll only show it if you promise you’ll use it."
"Pfff..." I try to play cool, though I'm dying to see what he got me. "No. You'll give it to me anyway because you'll look like an idiot carrying whatever that girly thing is."
"Fair point. Well, if you won't wear it willingly, I'll make you wear it." He moves his hand, revealing a bright red scarf. It's beautiful, made of smooth silk.
There are a thousand more appropriate reactions, but all I can come up with is, “Why?"
“Because sometimes it's good to push past something that makes you uncomfortable. Will you wear this?"
"Yeah, sure. It's gorgeous. Thanks."
He steps up to me, swinging the scarf over my head, letting it fall over my hair, electrifying it in the process. I raise my hand to smooth it, and meet Damon's. The split-second our fingers touch, the current of excitement from earlier turns into a full-on fire.
"Let me do it." His voice is breathy and uneven as he pats my hair, which only makes it worse, but I'm not about to complain. I hold my breath when he arranges the scarf around my neck, watching him run his tongue over his lower lip then nip at it with his teeth. I’m painfully aware of the heat in my cheeks, but hopefully my flush will go unnoticed next to the bright red fabric. "There you go. Happy Valentine's Day, Dani."
He throws one last look my way before opening the door to the classroom, and I'm a goner.
Chapter Eight: Dani
The next evening, I go out to dinner with James and Parker. My family’s driver, Paul, takes me to the steak restaurant I go to with James every once in a while.
The two men await me inside the restaurant, already sitting at a table. They both smile when they see me. Given how busy they are, I’m beyond happy they made time to eat dinner with me.
“Hello, cousin,” Parker says as I approach them, grinning from ear to ear. His thick British accent is music to my ears. “Long time, no see.”
“She’ll be all yours in the fall when she moves to England,” James says.
“Can’t wait,” Parker and I say at the same time.
The waitress arrives and asks us what we want to drink. She sizes up both men, pushing her chest out and fluttering her eyelids. She’s ridiculous, but I can’t really blame her. James and Parker are both stunning. Each of them has a devastating effect on women. When they’re next to each other? It’s just too much awesomeness. Ridiculously flirty behavior is accepted.
After the waitress brings our drinks, Parker asks, “How are prom preparations going?”
I choke on my soda, eying him to see if he’s pulling my leg or not. Nope, it’s a serious question. But I suppose he thinks this subject is a hit with senior girls. Chuckling, I say, “I can’t believe I’m having dinner with two men, and prom is brought up. It’s still months away.”
“Well, when we were in boarding school,” Parker says, pointing to James and himself, “that was all girls talked about in senior year. Granted, a long time’s passed since then, so maybe things have changed.”
“We’re not that old,” James says. Turning to me, he adds, “You were thinking about not going at some point.”
“I think I’ll go.” As I say the words, Damon’s green eyes pop into my mind. What is wrong with me? “Hazel and I will go shopping for dresses in about a month or so.”
“I can join you if you need a second opinion,” James says. My brother must love me very much if he’s willing to endure hours of shopping to spend time with me.
“You’ll get bored to death,” I tell him earnestly, though I secretly wish for him to join Hazel and me.