My cheeks flame, and I grab the makeup remover wipe I’d used to correct my eyeliner and chuck it at her. She dodges it easy, laughing and teasing me all the way down the stairs. When I hit the bottom one, we both stop, Skyler watching me knowingly as I do everything in my power to keep my jaw from dropping.
Holy fucking shit.
The Kade I’m most familiar with is naked Kade. I’m used to seeing his tattoos sprawling out over every inch of his muscular body, his short hair messy and mussed, his grin goofy and playful. But tonight? Tonight, Kade is in dark, form-fitting jeans, an olive green polo that sets off the color of his hungry eyes, and a brown leather jacket, shoved up just below his elbows, showing off his toned and tattooed forearms. His hair is styled, and that grin that’s usually so goofy and carefree is sultry and sexy as hell.
He looks like a GQ model, a celebrity, a rock star who could fuck me all the way up.
And I want all of him.
“Jess,” he says, his eyes roaming over me appreciatively as he shakes his head. I shiver at my name on his tongue, and when his gaze finds mine, that tongue snakes out just enough to wet his bottom lip. “You look gorgeous.” He pauses, lowering his voice to just above a whisper. “You always do.”
I don’t realize we’re not alone until that exact moment, because a chorus of awww’s and oh my God’s ring out from the sorority sisters clamored in the living room.
That seems to knock me out of my daze, and I roll my eyes, taking the last step off the stairs and crossing my arms in front of him. “That’s some line.”
“Not a line,” he assures me, that sexy smirk back in place. Then, he holds out his arm for me to thread mine through. “Ready?”
Oh, how I want to call him on his obvious show. But then again, I love the way he’s holding out an arm for me, the way he came to the house to pick me up, the way he planned an entire night for us.
I meant it when I said I wanted a date.
And he’s delivering.
I try to fight a smile, but fail miserably, weaving my hand through the hole in his arm and wrapping my fingers around his bicep. I glance back at Skyler and the other girls when we’re at the door, and they’re all holding up their thumbs and clapping quietly with glee.
“So, Mr. GQ,” I say when I’m buckled into the passenger seat of his hot little Camaro — the one I’ve been driving all semester, thanks to our deal. “What’s on the menu tonight?”
It’s a purposeful line, one that sets him up to easily say you in return. But instead, Kade smiles, firing the engine to life. “I’m going to wine and dine you, beautiful. Just like you deserve.”
His eyes find mine then, and then one hand reaches over to hold mine across the console, and he doesn’t remove it the entire drive.When Kade told me he was going to wine and dine me, I honestly thought he meant he was going to take me to the equivalent of a fancy Olive Garden downtown. I definitely did not expect him to take me to one of the most expensive restaurants on the water, one that sits at the top of a high rise and rotates.
No joke — the restaurant spins, giving you a three-sixty view of the city and the coastline as you eat.
On top of that, they’re known for incredible tapas, of which Kade orders us a dozen, a rare collection of wine, of which Kade orders us not one, but two bottles, and a live jazz trio, to which Kade takes my hand after dinner and leads me out on the dance floor to enjoy.
It’s the most magical night.
And it is absolutely not what I expected from him.
I can’t help but stare at him when we’re back at the table after a few songs, each of us sipping our wine and enjoying the music as we look over the dessert menu. Or rather, as Kade looks over the dessert menu and I study him, instead. He looks even more handsome in the candlelight, with the city glowing behind him, and I have to admit, watching him sip red wine turns me on way more than seeing him chug a beer at a frat party.
“I feel like I don’t even know who you are.”
The words blurt out before I can stop them, and Kade lifts a brow, casting me a glance before he’s looking at the menu again. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, who the fuck are you?” I ask, gesturing to where he sits. “The Kade I know lives in basketball shorts and flat-bill hats. I didn’t even know you had clothes like this in your wardrobe.”