Page 87 of The Way We Touch
“Fuck…” The word slips from my lips on a whisper. “We’re not going anywhere with you looking like that.”
Her dress is floor-length and flowy, made of a nude, seemingly transparent fabric that’s covered in glittering sparkles. It has spaghetti straps, and the front is a V-neck wrap. It’s low cut to allow the swell of her breasts to taunt me. Hell, the whole damn dress taunts me.
Her cheeks flush pink, and she looks down, lifting the sides of her skirt in her fingers. “It’s like I’m wrapped in starlight.”
“You look amazing.” I walk to where she’s standing, lifting her hand in mine. “I’m going to have to beat up every guy who looks at you.”
“You are not.” She laughs, placing her palms flat against the lapels of my jacket.
The pearl bracelet I gave her is delicate on her wrist, and the diamond-tipped pearl earrings warm her cheeks. Leaning down, I kiss her glossy pink lips. Her dark hair is pulled up on the sides, but it hangs in flowing mahogany ripples down her shoulders and back.
I trace my thumb lightly across the top of her cheek. “I’m really glad you came this weekend.”
She leans her cheek against my hand, blinking thick lashes up at me. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m having a wonderful time.”
“I guess we have to make an appearance at this party, but don’t expect to stay too long.”
Her nose wrinkles, and she leans closer to kiss me softly. “You’re the boss.”
“I like the sound of that.” My voice is a low growl. “Maybe a little too much.”
She steps away, holding my hand. “We’d better go or we never will.”
The Gala for a Cure is packed with celebrities and influencers. The entire football team is here, since it’s our quarterback’s designated charity.
Photographers wait for us to step out of the SUV, and I wish I could protect Dylan from this part of my job. The gossip sites and the entertainment reporters are always in our business, and their opinions and comments can be really shitty at times.
I don’t want Dylan to lose her privacy, and I fear as soon as they see this beautiful mystery woman on my arm, a feeding frenzy will erupt.
Flashing lights blind us as we step out, and photographers shout my name. I lift the side of my jacket, doing my best to hustle us up the red-carpeted stairs and into the venue as quickly as possible. Dylan holds my arm and the side of her dress, as she tries to keep up with me in her heels.
“Where’s the fire?” She laughs, pushing her hair back when we stop inside the foyer of the ballroom.
“I hate those guys.” I straighten my coat, and she reaches up to fix my collar.
“My brothers hated them too.” Her voice is calm, matter-of-fact “Well, all except Hendrix. I think he really enjoys being the center of attention. He likes to say it’s because I came along and stole the spotlight when we were babies.”
“When I was his age, first starting out, I thought it was cool. Like I was a rockstar. Now I’ve learned you never know what they’re going to say about you, and you can never get them to take it back.”
“I’m not worried about Internet gossip.”
“Finally, there you are!” Garrett’s booming voice greets us as we enter the ballroom.
Dylan’s eyes light, and she lifts the side of her dress again before skipping over to hug her brother. “I can’t jump on your back in this thing,” she laughs, hugging him.
“Good thing.” He lifts her off the ground in a bear hug. “You’re getting chonky.”
“I am not!” She slaps his back, and I chuckle at the two of them.
A tall, size zero brunette reaches for his arm, and my brows rise when I recognize Lainey Smith at his side. Lainey is one of Natalia’s model friends, and I’m surprised to see her here with the Grizz. At least she isn’t constantly taking pictures and posting on her socials.
“Hi, Lainey.” I reach out to shake her hand.
“Logan.” Her slim brow arches, and she inspects Dylan. “Who’s your lovely date?”
“Ah, Lainey Smith, meet my little sister Dylan.” Garrett puts his hand on Lainey’s upper back. “She flew in from Alabama so this guy could attend.”
“Yes, she did.” My voice is warm as I look down at my girl.