I’m halfway to him by the time I even realize my feet are carrying me in his direction. But before I can reach him, he shifts his focus to something else across the room.
A coolness toward me I haven’t registered for years is rolling off of him before I’m standing directly in front of him, my presence demanding his attention.
“Hi,” I say, my voice soft.
My teeth dig into my lower lip, and I know it’s the stupid plan I never let myself fully commit to until this very second that’s making me a little shy.
“Hello,” he says, his tone mostly formal but marked with a hint of his own shyness.
“I need to show you something.”
His throat works on a swallow, and it gives me hope that maybe his head is going to the place I want it to be.
“What would that be?” he asks, his eyes darting to the cleavage exposed by my dress.
His eyes skated the length of me in the elevator earlier, but he quickly shut it down.
His crush on me is no secret. His brothers and even Beth used to tease him about it relentlessly, but they’ve matured slightly and stopped doing that after I told them it made me uncomfortable before he ever got out of high school.
I never pictured Kit as a guy I’d hook up with. He’s three years younger, and when his crush started, I was a senior in high school, and he was securely locked in the position of my best friend’s kid brother. I can’t believe how much my view of him has changed recently.
“It’s not here. It’s up in my room.”
That very same tingle I got earlier from just hearing his laughter skates down my spine once again, only now it seems ten times stronger with our proximity.
“I can wait right here while you go get it.”
“It’s… umm… I can’t bring it down.” My eyes dart toward Beth and Spencer before roving over the other Riggs’s family members in the room.
Embarrassment for what I’m doing warms my cheeks as I silently pray he just accepts what I’m trying to say and follows me to my room.
“A surprise for Beth?”
“Of sorts,” I answer, because if my bestie knew what I was hoping for, it would be a complete shock, and something that would make me lose more than just a little of her time.
“Okay,” he says, turning toward the exit.
“No,” I say, touching him on the arm for the second time today.
I do my best to ignore the zing at the feel and blink up at him. Has he always been so much taller than me?
“I don’t want anyone to see us going up together.”
His jaw flexes. “That impression wouldn’t make anyone happy, would it?”
He’s annoyed, and that wasn’t my goal for tonight at all.
“Just give me five minutes. I’m in room seven-oh-four.”
A spark of something flashes in his eyes, making me think he’s finally on the same page as me.
“Five minutes,” I say, reluctantly pulling my hand from his skin.
He nods in agreement, and I shuffle away, my fingers rubbing against my thumb in an effort to get rid of the electrical charge remaining after touching him.
Chapter 3
Kit
Three hundred seconds. That’s how long she asked me to wait. Although I literally counted down each damn one, I still can’t seem to get my feet to move toward the elevator after reaching double that number.
Being in the elevator, smelling the sweet perfume she’s always worn, was torture, and Brooks was with me. Going to her room alone seems like something I would never survive.
Yes, these swanky-ass rooms all have small kitchenettes and a sitting area, but the damn bed takes up a huge part of it. Beds are meant for sleeping, for fucking, for cuddling.
She has a bed in her room, and I want to do all of that with her.
No, Kit, you don’t. You only think you do because you’re an idiot who can’t let go of a stupid childhood crush.
Taking a deep breath, I force myself to move.
“Where are you headed?” Gannon asks, stopping me before I can make it out of the room.
“Up to my room for a minute.”
“With Angie?” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “I’ve seen the way she’s been watching you.”
“Angie? I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
“Her,” Gannon says, turning me and pointing directly at a woman who has her eyes locked on me. “She’s one of the bridesmaids.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I snap, jerking his arm down.
I nod at the woman in question, watching as she lifts her glass in a toast to me.
“She’s hot,” Gannon slurs.
“Your wife is hot,” I remind him.
“Don’t talk like that about my wife,” he hisses, that possessive streak all my brothers have over their women rearing its head.
“Don’t talk like that about other women then,” I challenge.
“Just trying to help you out.”