Page 78 of A Little Tempting
My lips turn down, and I tilt my head. “Don’t most people sleep better in the dark?”
“Depends on their childhood trauma,” he quips. “Do you want me to unplug the night-light?”
“You have a night-light?”
“Told you I hate black,” he reminds me without an ounce of shame. Like it’s normal for an adult male to sleep with a night-light and hate the color black so much even a dark room is a no-go.
Right. Trauma.
With a gentle shake of my head, I murmur, “I’ll be fine. The, uh, the night-light can…stay.”
“All right.” He sighs. “See you around, Dylan.”
He turns on his heel again, and this time, he leaves, but for some reason I genuinely don’t understand, all I’m left with is a lump of…regret? Resignation? Confusion? Dammit, I’m a muddled mess, and I really don’t want to know why.
I stare at the door separating me from the outside world and bunch the sleeves of his hoodie in my palms. “See you around, Reeves.”
19
DYLAN
It’s weird. Shopping for dresses. And even though I found at least six Finley and Ophelia swear look incredible on me, I couldn’t help but settle on a silky, muted aquamarine dress with spaghetti straps and a high slit reaching mid-thigh. It’s sexy and bold and makes me feel like an imposter in my own skin.
A stupid imposter.
Because who in their right mind would choose the color suggested by a guy who isn’t their date for the evening?
Me. I would.
Idiot.
Because despite Reeves’ job, despite the possibility of Everett being Cinderfella, despite the bet and how I agreed to be a pawn, I cannot stop thinking about the kiss.
Thatfreakingkiss with Oliver Reeves.
So, here I am, kind of, sort of getting ready for a guy who isn’t even my date.
It’s official. I’ve reached a new level of low even for me, and that’s saying something.
Finley recruited her older half-sister, Hazel, to do our hair and makeup since she’s a professional makeup artist. I’m not gonna lie. I almost look hot, which is strange because, until tonight, I didn’t even think it was possible to transform my girl-next-door looks into a vixen. Hazel officially blew my expectations out of the water.
Ophelia looks gorgeous in a sleek red dress, and Finley looks like a full-blown supermodel in her shimmery gold ensemble, her dark, straight hair cascading down her back in a sheet of black silk.
It’d be more romantic for everyone if we weren’t all staying under the same roof, but thanks to the burned kitchen next door, here we are, squished into the bathroom as the guys hang out on the main floor.
Drew flew in for Homecoming and is hanging out in the family room while the rest of us finish getting ready. When we enter the main area, I wait for his jaw to hit the floor from how hot his girlfriend is, but he’s too busy staring at whatever’s on his screen to notice.
Griffin, however, can’t take his blue eyes off her as she walks down the stairs. My brows cave when I notice. Is there longing in those swirly depths? Or is it nothing more than casual interest? Like a person noting the weather? It’s not like my brother’s blind. Finley’s gorgeous. She’s always been gorgeous in a confident, unapologetic way I’ve always envied. He’d be a foolnotto notice her, right? But this look? I don’t know, it feels…different. Then again, I know my brother pretty freaking well, and I also know he cares about his friendship with Everett more than almost anything. And Everett? Well, I think we all agree he’s a bit on the overprotective side. Seeing his little sister with his best friend? The guy’s head would explode, and there’s no way Griff would jeopardize anything with Ev over a girl who’s head over heels in love with her boyfriend.
No way.
Feeling a little more confident, I continue my path toward the kitchen while an oblivious Finley ignores Griffin and heads straight toward her boyfriend. “I believe now is the time you tell me how amazing I look,” she teases.
Drew’s head snaps up, and his eyes widen. “Damn, Fin. You look…”
“I know, right?” She gives him a coy smile and slides onto his lap, kissing him without giving a shit who sees as the rest of us enter the room.
Finley let me borrow one of her clutches, so I grab it from the kitchen counter, stuffing my phone into it while Ophelia ignores the makeout session on the couch, heading straight for Maverick. He stands from the kitchen table and tugs her to him, whispering something against the shell of her ear. A sad smile spreads across her face.