UNDER STRICT INSTRUCTION from my father, I enter the high-end suit store, feeling out of place.
The plush carpet cushions my steps as I walk further in, taking in the grandeur. The walls are lined with rows of neatly displayed suits in different shades and textures. Crystal chandeliers glitter from the ceiling, illuminating pristine white walls and highlighting the luxurious fabrics.
A heady mix of fresh linen, leather, and cologne assaults my olfactory nerves.
For the first time since my father “employed” me to flirt with people he’s manipulating, I’m allowed to wear something other than red to a banquet he’s planning.
No date has been set, but he barked over the phone this morning that I should be prepared. Instead of red, I’m supposed to wear white. I didn’t question it because he’s allowing me to choose the dress I’ll wear.
“Don’t get smart with me, Blair. You’re choosing the dress, but if it’s not like the others I bought you, you’ll fucking regret it.”
So the style still stands—short, slutty, but I can pick the right size and not sheer lace. That’s a win, so I eagerly got in my car and drove to the mall.
Another thing I didn’t question was his order to come here and buy him a crisp white tie. Heading straight for the correct rack, I stop, catching sight of familiar, broad shoulders and dark hair in a bun.
He’s on the phone, flipping through the shirt rack. Three already hang from his pinkie—black, powder blue, and cream. I’m rooted to the spot, wondering what sick game karma is playing.
Is it not enough that we live across the hall from each other? Now I’m bumping into him outside our limited, gated community?
Taking a deep breath, I step aside, hiding behind a tall rack of suits, my stomach bottoming out. Knowing he’ll be heading toward the changing rooms, I wait until he disappears before I scan the shelves for a white tie.
My gaze lands on a pale yellow tie, and I immediately wonder how it would look against Cody’s tanned skin.
There’s a shirt in the exact same color on the rack he was just at. God… why am I doing this to myself?
It’s a stupid, stupid idea, but before I know it, my feet carry me toward the changing rooms, yellow shirt in hand.
The dusty-gray curtain of the one occupied room is drawn shut, and I hesitate. I shouldn’t do this. I really shouldn’t, but…
Inhaling and holding a sharp breath, I push the shirt through the tiny gap, heart in my throat.
Every time we meet, every time I see him, my crush grows tenfold while he remains unaffected. Not entirely, sure. The way he looks at me sometimes is a dead giveaway that he finds me attractive, but he’s not as affected as I am.
My body tingles, my mouth turns dry, and I’m a ball of nerves whenever his dark eyes meet mine.
“Try this one,” I say, immediately regretting my decision to play personal shopping assistant to the man who weakens my knees. “For Logan’s wedding,” I add as a form of clarification because it’s been three seconds of deafening silence, and I just stand here, gawking at the gray curtain, one hand in Cody’s changing room.
I all but jump out of my skin when his warm, calloused hand wraps around my wrist. A surprised gasp escapes me as he pulls me into the cramped space.
He’s wearing a pair of charcoal slacks I’ve not seen him pick out, the button and zipper undone, revealing his snow-white boxers. A cream shirt is draped over his back, his muscular chest inches from my face, scent assaulting my senses.
“Yellow?” he questions, still gripping my wrist.
I fight to maintain composure, but his proximity is almost unbearable. I can feel his breath on my face, and my knees melt. “It’ll look good on you.” He’s too close, and yet not close enough. “Trust me.”
“That’s wishful thinking,” he clips, but instead of telling me to leave, he shrugs off the cream shirt, tossing it aside, unfazed by my presence.
My eyes can’t help but shamelessly rove the broad expanse of his chest while he’s distracted by the yellow shirt. I should leave, give him privacy, but I’m rooted to the spot, and my thoughts drift to what it would feel like to run my fingers over his toned trapezoid muscles.
“You got somewhere to be?” he asks, a hint of amusement lacing his tone.
I snap from my daydream as he flings the shirt on, covering my new favorite view.
He studies himself in the mirror, ironing the fabric with big hands. “You’re right. It looks good.” Our eyes clash in the mirror. “So? Are you in a hurry?”
“Not really. I need to buy a dress, but that won’t take long.”
“You’re looking for a dress in a suit shop?” A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth like he thinks I purposely followed him.
“No, I came in to buy a tie for my father.”
He narrows his eyes but doesn’t share his thoughts. “You don’t usually shop alone. Where are your friends?”
“They’re busy.” I step closer, reaching up to adjust the collar of his shirt, my fingers brushing his warm skin. “What do you think?” I ask, undoing one button and smoothing out any creases, my hand pressing the fabric against his chest. “I think it suits you. You could wear it for the rehearsal dinner.”
He considers my words for a moment before speaking. “I’ll make you a deal. Since you know what will look good on me, you’ll help me with everything I need for the wedding weekend, and in return, I’ll judge which dresses you look good in.”
My jaw almost hits the floor. He wants me to help? He’s willing to spend time with me? It’s a small step toward forgiveness, but it feels like a massive victory.
“Do you know what color dress your date’s wearing?” I ask.
Cody’s eyes meet mine in the mirror, a jolt of electricity idling between us. The small space suddenly feels too intimate, and I step back, walking into the gray fabric.
“No idea. I’ve not asked anyone yet. Why?”
“I thought you’d like your tie to match her dress.”
“So I’ll buy a tie when I find a date, and she chooses her dress. I need a white shirt for the wedding, any tie will do.” He undoes the small buttons, and I can’t help but watch as the fabric unfolds, revealing his bare chest.
“Okay. Wait here,” I mumble, successfully tearing my eyes from his muscles writhing as he moves, the wetness between my legs growing increasingly uncomfortable.
Stumbling back, I leave, and five minutes later, I’m back with more shirts, suits, and slacks. I watch Cody try on the different clothes, admiring how perfectly they fit him.
“What do you need a dress for?” he asks, watching me in the mirror as he shrugs on the third shirt.
“My father’s work do. He throws elegant banquets whenever he needs to butter someone up.”
“So you need something elegant,” he muses. “I know just the place. It’s in Huntington Beach, so we’ll take my car.”
“Thank you, but I don’t need help. I’ve got strict instructions on what to buy.”
Damn it. Why is talking to him so effortless? My filter goes out the window, everything I usually hide now exposed.
“Your date decides what you’ll wear?” he asks, his fingers fumbling with the shirt’s buttons.
I step in to help. “My date?”
“I assume you’re going with someone since you said you’ve got instructions on what to wear.”
“Oh… no date. I’m on my father’s arm.”
His eyebrows bunch together for a second. “Why? Where’s your mother?”
Grief spreads across my skin like a rash. It’s been over a year, but I doubt my heart will ever stop feeling like it’s snapping in two whenever I think about her.
“She’s dead.”
Regret casts a shadow over Cody’s face for a moment of awkward silence before, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s better this way. I’m sure she’s happier wherever she is than she was here.” I try to keep my voice steady, but my eyes prick with tears.
Swallowing hard and diverting the conversation, I help Cody shimmy into a suit jacket. “Now this looks good,” I praise with a forced smile.
“That it does. I think I’ve got everything I need. We’ll grab a quick coffee, before I return the favor.”
A quick coffee? Here? At the mall where anyone could see us sitting together? The idea of him willingly getting seen with me has the cogs in my head pinwheeling.
What the hell is he playing at?
“Like I said, I don’t need help,” I mutter, bailing on spending more time with him even though it almost kills me. “Thank you for offering.”
“Who’ll tell you if you look nice?”
“I’m not supposed to look nice. I’m supposed to look—” I stop myself in time, worrying my bottom lip.
“What are you supposed to look like, Blair?” he asks softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
My heart races at his touch, and I fight the urge to lean in. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want you to come with me, okay?”
His determined gaze hitches my defenses back up. I said too much already. I need to leave before I give him too many clues. Cody’s smart. Perceptive. I piqued his curiosity and he’s not the type to drop the subject.
He stands before me in his shirt, jacket, and boxers, and I know better than to let my eyes wander. I was very, very careful not to glance at his cock this whole time.
Ignoring his inquisitive stare, I take the opportunity to flee.
He won’t chase me without pants.
***
Five hours later, after buying the dress and spending three hours at the psychiatric ward, I’m back home.
Cody’s car is parked in its usual spot, and knowing he’s home makes me clutch the shopping bag with my whoreish white dress tighter, like he’ll jump me, steal the bag, and check what I bought.
“Answer me!” I hear Ana scream as soon as I climb the last flight of stairs.
Cody’s outside his condo, feet bare, back leaning against the wall, with Ana on her tippy toes slamming her open hand against his chest, her face bright red, hair in disarray.
“Is there someone else?! Are you cheating on me?!”
“I can’t cheat on you,” he huffs, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “We’re not together. We were never together.”
I’m frozen in my spot, unsure whether to go back down or hide in my condo.
“Don’t say that. You don’t mean it!”
Condo, I decide, taking a step forward. I halt again when Cody’s eyes snap to mine.
“Shit,” he breathes, his expression morphing to annoyance.
A cold shiver seizes my body, and I turn on my heel. He’s obviously not happy I can hear their conversation. Maybe they need a few minutes of privacy, and even though I have every right to go into my own home, I’m retreating, so they can talk this out.
“Fuck… Baby, wait!” Cody calls after me, his tone loaded with something I don’t understand. It sounds almost like he’s afraid. A bit desperate. “Don’t leave. I can explain.”
I come to a complete stop, my eyes wide as saucers, I’m sure, and not just because he called me baby. Not just because his rushed footsteps approach but because my whole body tingles.
One word, but it’s enough to knock me off my damn feet. I turn to Cody, stunned into silence by his determined gaze. My heart threatens to burst when he grips me by the waist, dips his head, and presses his lips to mine.
It’s a peck. Nothing more. Just one hard, unyielding peck, but the softness of his mouth, and the warmth of his body against mine is enough to send a delicious shiver surging through my entire structure.
I tremble in his arms. Emotions accelerate the hot blood in my veins, overwhelming my senses as he pulls away, his deep brown eyes locking onto mine with a sort of diffident, tentative amazement.
“Jesus…” he whispers, lifting both hands to my face.
Just as it dawns on me that this kiss is a show for Ana, Cody’s mouth is on mine again.
And it’s not just a peck this time.
His fingers caress my cheeks as his lips claim mine before his hands slide down to lift me off the floor, hauling me into his arms with the avidity of a musician seizing the perfect melody. My legs have nowhere to go but around his waist. His hand clasps the back of my neck and I can’t escape.
I don’t want to escape. Not now, not ever.
There’s so much power in his kiss. So much raw intensity in his touch as he slams me against the wall, one hand supporting my butt, the other tangled in my hair, pulling my head back to deepen the kiss, his whole body pressing into me.
I whimper, surrendering to his inaudible demands.
His hard cock juts against me and I arch into him, craving the contact. It’s as if a switch flipped inside his head, removing any resolve he had left.
His hand moves from my neck to my back, then the side of my face, the kiss greedy, desperate… like he’s trying to consume me, like he’s imprinting himself on me, and I lose my goddamn mind. I’m powerless to resist.
A low hum starts inside me, growing louder with every flick of his tongue, and when he sinks his teeth in my bottom lip, pulling gently with a low groan, my body responds in kind, my hands fisting his hair as I kiss him back with equal fervor. I swear I’m seconds away from coming apart. Seconds from orgasm, and he’s done nothing more than kiss me.
But as quickly as it all started, it ends.
Ana’s teary voice breaks the moment, penetrating our bubble. “You’re such an asshole.” She storms past us, whacking Cody’s back.
Her hastened footsteps retreat, and once she rounds the corner, my feet hit the floor.
Cody steps back, running a shaking hand down his face. The silence is deafening. I can’t bring myself to look up to him, knowing what I’ll see will hurt.
Pushing a long breath down his nose, he grabs my bags off the floor, handing them over. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he says. “I… I didn’t think. It was an impulse. I ran out of ideas how—”
“It’s okay,” I cut in, calming myself as I push off the wall. “A favor for a favor, right? You helped me with Alan, I helped you with Ana. Hopefully, she got the message.” Forcing my feet to move, I trot away, head down, hand in my purse, searching for keys. “Goodnight.”
“Blair…”
“Goodnight, Cody.”
