SEVENTEEN
The rest of the afternoon was spent in silence, finally finishing what we started and painting the rest of the walls. After replacing the tarp we had dirtied with some newspapers that we found near the elevator, we eventually settled on a color we both liked—lilac for the accent wall and a muted beige for the secondary walls. When we’re done, I take a step back and wipe away the thin sheen of sweat on my forehead. The paint job was decent; though it probably would have looked a lot better if we hadn’t made such a mess of it before this.
“Looks all right,” Kayden comments as he descends from the ladder, taking a couple of seconds to admire our effort.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
He glances at me, eyes softening. “Yeah. I do.”
A pleased smile crosses my face. At least I know that today’s activity benefited him just as much as it did me.
Kayden’s phone rings, jerking his attention away. He lifts the phone to his ear to answer. “Hey, Brent,” he says. A long pause as Brent explains something to him I can’t quite make out. “Oh yeah? Sure, I’ll ask her and let you know. Bye.”
“What did he say?”
He slides the phone back into his pocket. “There’s a knockouts after party at a club tonight. Brent and Evans are thinking of going. They asked if we’d like to join.”
“Sure. Why not.” I shrug. “Unless you wanna stay in.”
He shakes his head. “I’m game if you are.”
“Then let’s go.”
I dash into the bathroom to take a long shower, scrubbing the rest of the dried paint from my hair and body. Once I’m freshly cleaned, I slap on some makeup and rake through my closet for something decent to wear. My closet isn’t exactly the most versatile; most of my clothes are sportswear. But after a couple of minutes of searching, I finally find something suitable: a sleek black halter minidress that I’m sure will look good with a pair of faux leather boots.
By the time I’m out of my room, Kayden is leaning against the wall in the hallway, wearing a plain black shirt and jeans.
It’s a simple outfit, yet he looks devastatingly handsome in it, complementing his clean-shaven face and neatly styled hair.
I’ve never seen him look this well groomed. Most of the time he’s a sweaty, but hot, mess. I can’t tell which I like better, but this new look is a nice change from the usual.
When he finally notices me, his eyes widen as he drinks in my entire form. Color blooms on my cheeks as his eyes dip from my face down to my chest, pausing for a moment at the exposed skin peeking out of the dress cutouts at the sides of my abdomen, traveling to my legs then all the way back up again. When they return to my face, his eyelids flutter closed and he inhales a ragged breath.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“No. Not at all,” he mumbles, and beckons me with a nod. “Let’s go.”
When we get to his car and prop ourselves in our designated seats, Kayden turns to me from the driver’s seat.
He leans forward and presses his hand to my cheek, his eyes shining bright. I hold my breath, wondering what he’s going to do.
“You’re catastrophically beautiful,” he blurts before releasing his hold on me and turning the ignition.
I fall back in my seat, desire exploding in my stomach as those rough words hit me.
Holy shit.
He’s going to kill me, isn’t he? With his beautiful words and kind stares and big, gentle heart. He’s truly going to be the death of me.
We ease back into a welcoming silence, ignoring the heat festering between us. I still don’t know what to make of it. I’ve known him a few weeks but I’ve never wanted anyone more in such a short period of time. I just want to replay Kayden’s words in my mind repeatedly so that I never forget them. Ever.
When we finally make it to the club, I spot Brent and Evans together, waiting in the long line of busty girls and overeager men. There are a couple of fighters I recognize from the day before; it’s rather easy to spot them what with the cuts in their eyebrows, puffy eyes, and large purple bruises across their arms.
“Damn, Sienna.” Evans whistles lowly as I approach them. “You clean up well.”
“I can’t believe this is how we’re spending Valentine’s Day,” Brent mutters, his glasses getting fogged up by the smoke wafting from inside the club.
“Why not?” Evans questions. “The people here are hot.”