by C. M. Owens
"Good." That's a start. I let go of her hand to continue to head down the stairs, and then I continue. "Dad called and wants you to come to a charity event next weekend at his house. You game?"
"Me? Why?" she asks, sounding genuinely perplexed as she follows me.
"Because he likes you." I shrug, acting as though my father hasn't been in my ear about making sure Raya comes. "Take it as a compliment. He doesn't like many people."
Including me, most of the time.
"That would be... weird, wouldn't it? Me at some ritzy function meant for people like you. I'll probably pass, but tell Mr. Colton thank you for me."
Her self-deprecating comments aren't going to fly around me. My grandfather is one of the classiest men I know, and he didn't have but a few dollars to his name at one point in his life.
"First of all, people like you? You mean people that don't wipe their asses with money? I can assure you my father prefers people like you, since he used to be one of you. Secondly, you'll fit in just fine, and I'll be there. It's not like you'll be in the trenches alone. Come on. Don't make me go deal with all the rich people kissing my father's ass by myself."
Her smile is adorable as she gets lost in thought. She has to come, or else I'll end up leaving early. It's impossible to leave her here alone for long.
Ah, hell.
"You sure?" she asks, bringing me back from my pathetic thoughts.
"Positive. I'll drive you back to the store to get a dress. You'll need something nice."
"There're a ton of dresses in there, thanks to you tossing half the store on the counter," she says, feigning exasperation.
It's refreshing that she has no idea what kind of glamour goes into an event like this.
"Not good enough. You need something a little more flashy. It's one of those parties. If you feel like it, we'll go right now."
I'm not sure if this is an excuse to get her alone in a dressing room again or not.
"Um... I don't care to wear one of the others. I'd rather wear one of the others, actually."
I go to grab her hand again, smiling as I do so. "Either you come with me to find you a dress, or I'll go alone. Are you sure you want to let this fall in my hands?"
She'll go.
"I trust you," she says while shrugging, pulling her hand out of mine.
Game on.
I laugh as she heads back up the stairs. She doesn't know me at all if she thinks I was joking.
Chapter Eight
Blurring the Lines
A week changes a lot. A hell of a lot.
I just thought I was getting addicted to Raya last weekend. Now I know I am.
I haven't gone any-damn-where without her very much. We've had every meal together, she's fallen asleep in my lap a couple of times—which is incredibly frustrating for painful reasons—and all we've done is talk. It's like I know everything about her, yet nothing at all.
She doesn't tell much about her past. In fact, she doesn't speak about anything at all very much. She's mentioned her family some, but nothing past the surface. I know she's close with her family—at least her mom's side. She hasn't mentioned a father, so I assume he's out of the picture, more than likely deceased.
Sadly, I don't think I've ever talked so much about nothing and enjoyed it this much. Neither of us have scratched too far beneath the surface, but I like it. In fact, it's my favorite time of the day.
Outside of class and necessary errands, we've become inseparable, and damn, it's surprisingly perfect. Both times she fell asleep on me, I thought about just going to sleep with her so I could see how it felt to hold her all night. Like a coward, I chickened out both times and carried her upstairs to tuck her in.
Raya is someone you have to inch closer to. You can't just look at her and see to her core. She makes you earn it, even work for it. And I happen to have excellent work ethic.
Where I excel in work ethic, I suck at patience. I've been waiting forever. How long is it going to take her to get ready? Raya isn't usually so high maintenance.
"Kade, this isn't me," she says, drawing my attention up the stairs.
I might have picked out the sexiest dress I could find that didn't show too much. She shouldn't have challenged me.
"Then you should have come with me," I say while heading up the stairs, smiling as I near her door. I've been dying for this reveal.
The second I walk in, her eyes hungrily rake over me, making me feel a little powerful, but she steals that power back when my eyes slowly take her in, savoring every inch of her body. Yeah... wrong dress. I'll be in pain all night. I'm such an idiot.
Oh damn, that split goes up much higher than I thought it did, and I'll be itching to slide my hand in places it can't go. The red fabric clings to her in a way that already has me thankful these pants aren't tighter. And her chest... shit. If her tits looked better, I'd have to throw all my hard work away and tackle her right now.
I think I just licked my lips.
"Damn," I say slowly, loosening my tie when it becomes too tight. I don't even try to hide the fact that I'm completely floored by her.
She doesn't need to be blushing right now. That's really not helping me at all. This thing between us is getting stronger everyday, and I know she feels it, too. Has to. But I refuse to ruin it by going too quickly. I want her to come to me.
I finally feel my own cheeks heating, and I can't wipe this stupid grin off my face. I really wasn't expecting the dress to look that good on her. But then again, at the rate I've been falling, she could probably wow me with a sheet on.
Shit. Don't need that mental image right now.
"So much for it not being you. It'll be hard to keep the eyes off you tonight," I say, barely exerting self-control.
Her shy grin just makes her all the more appealing. But she doesn't say anything.
"Come on. Let's go make some jaws drop," I say, proffering her my arm.
When her hand slides into place, she stumbles, and I quickly grab her to support her.
"You okay?" I ask, looking to make sure her dress isn't causing her problems.
"Yeah," she mumbles, looking embarrassed. "It's the heels."
I nod while carefully guiding her to the car, making sure to be ready in case her heels give her problems again. She didn't seem to have a problem the last time she wore heels.
"You'll get to meet some of my family tonight. Be warned, my mother is... someone you have to warm up to. She'll grill you at first, but she'll back off once she sees you're genuine."
Mom has two personalities when she drinks. She's either a super bitch or she's super sweet. I pray tonight is a super sweet night. If not, Dad better get her under control. He's the one who begged me to get Raya there.
I start to explain it to her, when I realize how tense she is. Shit. Now I've scared her. She's going to an event full of strange people, and she has a problem being around people with money. And I go and say something like that.
I'll just make sure my mother is on her best behavior.
"Relax, Raya. You'll be fine. I'll be there with you," I promise, and she forces a brittle smile.
I help her into the Range Rover, stealing a peek at the skin the split shows, and I groan inwardly after I make my way to my side.
The drive over there is torture. I can't speak because I'm too busy looking at her, hoping I don't wreck. Even when my eyes are on the road, I'm using my peripheral to scan every inch, making sure I'm not missing some delicious detail.
And she keeps catching me. I don't care. I'm a lost cause at this point.
I pull through the gate, park close to the fountain, and toss the keys to the valet, while making my way toward the belle of the ball.
The valet says something, but I'm too distracted. Assuming it was a cordiality, I nod toward him, hoping he didn't ask an important question.
Raya's eyes are wide with wonder as she gazes up at the house. She struggles to keep her jaw shut, and I watch with mild amusement as she wars with it.
"This... yeah... I wasn't expecting..." She finally stops speaking when words seem to evade her. Raya is a little hard to impress, considering glitz and glam sicken her under normal circumstances. I'm enjoying this little show.
I snicker quietly as the door is opened for us, and I watch as her jaw actually drops. It's fascinating to watch her so enamored by things I don't even offer a passing glance at anymore. It makes me feel a little spoiled and ungrateful.
"You lived here?" she whispers, acting as though she might break something with her voice alone.
"Yes," I whisper back, biting back a grin when she shoots me an eye roll. But she holds my arm tighter, and that just makes my blood pump faster.
Dad has his radar on, and he spots us immediately when we make it into the main room. He excuses himself from his group, and quickly comes toward us, seeming truly excited to see the beauty on my arm.
"Raya, I'm so glad Kade convinced you to come. And you look ravishing," he says while taking her hand to kiss it.
That shouldn't bother me as much as it does. But I'm not crazy about seeing anyone touch her.
Fucking eh. I sound like a possessive moron, and she's not even mine. Yet.
"Thank you for inviting me," she says so sweetly, her voice soft enough to rival an angel's harp.
"Of course. I assume the two of you have been getting along a little better?" he asks, turning his eyes toward me as a knowing grin spreads.
How does he do that? How could he possibly know what I'm feeling for her, when I've only recently resigned myself to it? Could he look any smugger?
And why the hell do I want to smile? I really hate him.
"We're getting along," I say neutrally, keeping my grin held back somewhat, and refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing too much.
He knows. The bastard is telling me everything with his eyes. I wish I had that uncanny ability.
He keeps smiling, so I turn away, watching as Tag approaches. Shit. I should have told him about Raya. He's already undressing her with his eyes. I'll kick his ass.
"It's about time you showed up, and thank God you brought something worth looking at," Tag says, shamelessly eye-fucking my girl.
Dad laughs while slapping Tag's back, and then he nods to Raya. I'm working hard not to grind my teeth into nothing.
"I need to make my rounds. Have a good time, Raya. Make sure Kade doesn't leave you next to the wolves without him."
Like I'd let Tag anywhere close to her without me.
Dad makes a show of eyeing Tag, and the renowned player has the audacity to mock offense, acting as though he's shocked anyone would say such a thing. Slipping my arm around Raya's waist, I prepare to do something I've never done before.
"Where's Star?" I ask, invoking the age-old phrase that stops our group from ever crossing a line.
Tag smiles upon the mention of the name that hinders his quest. Star Morgan was a girl Ethan Noles—my cousin—and Maverick Sterling got into a huge fight over. It was nasty. After that, everyone decided to use it as a warning. You ask about Star, you're claiming your territory.
"I decided not to bring her. Wren's fiancée doesn't get along with her too well. Besides, I don't really do the dating bit. Too much drama," he says, seeming well rehearsed in the game. It's not the first time someone has used Star around him.
Raya seems confused as she stares across the room, and I silently tell Tag to get lost. He does. Much to my delight.
"You feel like dancing?" I ask Raya when it seems to be safe.
She looks around, seeming truly upset about something. What'd I miss?
"Something wrong, Raya?" I ask, moving her to a classical melody.
She gets closer than what's proper for this sort of dance, but I'm certainly not complaining. I just dance as though we're two people from the same world—her world. The world where you can dance to any song the way you want to. The world where you can breathe easily and take things at face-value because people say what they mean. Here, it's all double talk and underlying meanings. I'm sure as hell not going to teach her to be a part of my world.
Right now, I don't care if I make the socialites whisper about how close her hips are to mine. And I might tell them to kiss my ass if they let their whispers reach her.
"Just... Is there something wrong with me that I can't see?" she asks, breaking me out of my reverie.
Tilting my head in confusion, I ask, "Why do you say that?"
Her eyes move to Tag. Fucking Tag. I shouldn't have let him get anywhere around her. I know better.
"Tag Masters... he acted like there was something wrong with me."
I try to be playful instead of angry, so I roll my eyes, and tease, "Don't tell me you're Tagged."
Say no, Raya. Or I might drag you out of here over my shoulder.
"No, I just don't particularly like feeling as though there's toilet paper stuck to my shoe or something. I looked in the mirror, but I don't see anything standing out. So, I'm asking you."
I let my eyes run the full length of her glorious body, and slowly my eyes find their way back to hers. I wish there was something wrong. Well, there is one thing wrong—she's still talking about Tag.
"There's nothing at all wrong with you, Raya. Just dance. Lighten up. Then we'll grab some champagne. Tag doesn't have a very big attention span."
"How do you know him?" she asks, making my calm facade slowly dissipate.
"He's my cousin's best friend. My Aunt Melanie pretty much raised him, so he and Wren grew up like brothers."
My jaw clenches when I see Tag's eyes drift to Raya's ass, despite the fact he has a girl dancing with him.
"How did I manage to piss you off?" Raya asks, surprising me and melting me a little when I feel like a jerk.
A small smile comes to my lips as I stare into her expectant eyes, all her attention back on me—right where it needs to be.
"You didn't. I just don't want you going after someone like Tag. He's like family to me, but he's not exactly the kind of guy who sticks around for longer than a night or two."
It's shitty to put Tag down, but I need to dissuade her as much as possible. "Star" won't keep him at bay if Raya shows him any interest. And I'll be damned if I turn her over. I especially don't like the fact that he's not having to work anywhere nearly as hard as I am.
"Well, I wasn't trying to get in his bed. I was sincerely worried I had something wrong with me that I couldn't see."
Thank God. I pull her even closer, earning me a few more disapproving glares from the older socialite women who will be spreading this around the country club tomorrow.
"You're very hard to read sometimes, Raya," I say, relaxing when I realize Tag isn't on her agenda.
She tilts her head, leans back and studies me. "What does that mean? Is that what's wrong with me?"
A hard breath comes out before my accidental laughter. She's so damn sweet.
"No. Like I said—nothing's wrong with you. Ready to drink?"
She gives me a small nod. I'm grateful to be getting alcohol. I never do more than sip a drink or two and pretend as though I've had more, but Raya brings out a jealous monster I didn't know I had. Until I learn how to deal with all this, alcohol and I are going to get very well acquainted.
I'm not sure which part of the evening has been the most boring—hanging around everyone who has a stick shoved up their ass, or dancing to music that puts babies to sleep in front of women who are cursing my firstborn in whispers. If one more person gives Raya a condescending look, I'm going to haul her out of here over my shoulder.
And my mother's parents aren't any better. It's sad when I actually appreciate my father. Considering he and my cousins have been incredibly welcoming to the girl who wasn't born on silk sheets, I have a new appreciation for all of them.
The only time she isn't getting the snooty snorts of distaste is when she's getting ogled by the bored husbands looking for a new side dish. Then of course, there are a few hormonal idiots who are undressing he
r with their eyes—that doesn't include me. That pisses me off even more.
Fortunately, she seems to be oblivious to everyone's reaction to her. She has taken the backhanded compliments without so much as flinching. But Raya doesn't know how to look for the sharks disguised as Nemo. I've never been more grateful for her naivety than I am right now.
Wren comes over, offering me a discreet wink, and sidles up next to my girl. I'm surprised Erica let him come tonight without her. She cheated on him, yet she's the one who gets crazy jealous.
"We're about to go to the den," Wren says, motioning toward the uppity crowd who are slowly diminishing.
"Sounds good. Will you hang out with Raya for me for just a second? I need to go find Mom. I forgot to tell her something."
Wren nods and smiles knowingly, and I kiss Raya's forehead without thinking about it. That wasn't me staking my claim. Okay... Maybe a little bit.
She shivers and that gives me a smile. I love her body's reactions. I know I have her body's approval, now I just need to make sure the rest of her is on board. She's skittish, meaning she's been hurt. She doesn't date—ever. She's had one serious boyfriend, and the bastard cheated on her. Kid gloves. I'll have to ease her into the idea so it doesn't overwhelm her and end after ten seconds. Not that I'm looking to dive into a serious thing.
Focus, Kade. Mom. I have to find her and make sure she behaves.
After grinding my teeth all night when someone said something insulting to Raya while veiling it as something kind, I won't have a tooth left if my mother decides to play bitch. She never likes any girl around me.
"Oh a scholarship?" Mary Perkins—one of the biggest socialite bitches—had asked Raya. "I'm sure a scholarship is very helpful to a girl in your condition." Yeah. Her condition. Poor is apparently a condition. She made it sound like an incurable disease.
That one word was laced with utter disgust—scholarship. Raya works twice as hard as her screw-up son who only got into college after Mary made a call.
Raya had just smiled and nodded, not noticing the underlying insult. If she did, she didn't let me know.