Chapter Twenty-Two #2
He always looked good, he always smelled clean and warm and woodsy and citrusy, even when he was simply wearing sweatpants. But tonight, he was resplendent. He stood tall and straight in his tuxedo, the cut of it perfectly tailored for his broad shoulders and trim waist. It fit him like a glove.
Everything about him oozed wealth, right down to the Piguet watch she’d never seen before and the gold cuff links glinting from his wrists.
His shoes were so shiny and pristine, they flashed in the light when he shifted on his feet, and he must have gotten a haircut.
His hair was slightly shorter than it was yesterday and had been expertly styled with some sort of texturizing wax, the dark, shadowy waves tumbling perfectly to frame his bare face.
No mask tonight. He was going to the party as himself, scar and all.
She’d never be tired of such unobstructed views of him.
Without the mask, he looked like a prince, not her shy, introverted artist boyfriend. Everything about him sparkled today, down to his perfectly manicured nails and fingertips, no longer stained black with ink from sketching like they so often were.
“Oh my god,” she whispered, breathless. “Theo, you look amazing.” He was so handsome, she had to brace a hand against the doorframe to hold herself up.
Suddenly, she felt so hot, she didn’t really need the coat she was clutching, and she sucked in a sharp breath to try to calm the rapidly growing heat simmering in her core.
But Theo hadn’t moved. He hadn’t even blinked.
He stood frozen in place, staring at her with his mouth agape—until he shook his head and swallowed.
“I—” He gulped again, and his right hand wandered near the edge of his jacket, stalling just short of plunging inside at the last second.
He lifted it instead, fully trembling now, and ran it over his freshly shaven face.
“Holy shit, Audrey. Holy shit,” he whispered through his fingers, suddenly doubling over and bracing his other hand on his leg to keep upright.
His breathing was heavy and labored, and he sounded on the verge of hyperventilating.
“This is what Violet chose?” he wheezed. “Is she trying to kill me?!”
It seemed she wasn’t the only one left breathless.
“Do you like it?”
“Do I like it?!” There was an odd, desperate growl tingeing the edge of his voice, and when he tried—and failed—to draw in a deep, calming breath, he glanced up at her.
His pupils were blown black and wide, the swirling amber-green of his eyes reduced to a thin ring of color around them.
“It’s taking everything I have not to tear that dress off of your body immediately,” he croaked.
“You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. ”
Violet had chosen an off-the-shoulder designer dress.
It was made of a thickly knit, scuba-like fabric, constructed in wide strips crisscrossing in layers that tightly hugged the meager curves of Audrey’s body, the length barely grazing the tops of her stilettos.
Tiny cutouts at her waist and hips showed tasteful glimpses of golden, freckled skin, teasing at what lay beneath—though the long slit running nearly to the top of her left thigh left far less to the imagination.
Violet had gone for maximum sex appeal while still being black-tie appropriate. And while she was plenty covered, Audrey did feel like she was walking temptation, in part because of the color. The dress was dyed a deep scarlet red, and she would be wearing a lip to match.
Audrey wondered if her roommate knew red was Theo’s favorite color.
She put a hand on his back. “Breathe,” she whispered. “Theo, I—”
He swallowed the rest of her words with a kiss.
The force of it took her aback, and she would have toppled over if he hadn’t grabbed her first. But she couldn’t deny the way he made her feel.
That heat pooling in her stomach only simmered hotter when Theo growled and nipped at her lips, the sound and feel of it hungry and desperate.
The sensation of his enormous, calloused hands cupping her jaw and wrapping around the back of her neck made her feel the same, and she pulled him close, all thoughts of makeup and hair and galas escaping straight through the rapidly forming cracks in her brain.
Did they have to go anywhere?
Surely it was unnecessary.
It was just a party.
What if they just went straight to his—
It was Theo who ripped himself away first with a sudden gasp.
It seemed like it took everything he had, every last scrap of sanity he could dredge up from the depths of his hindbrain to put any sort of distance between them, and the sudden tightness and visible bulge in his trousers wasn’t lost on her.
He cleared his throat and tugged absently at his pant leg, obviously trying to calm down before they completely ruined the artistry that had been so carefully performed to make both of them look like this tonight.
“Sorry,” he rasped. He might have pulled away, but he hadn’t been able to take his hands off of her, and his fingers trailed longingly down the bare skin revealed by the low back of her dress. “Couldn’t help it.”
“Me neither,” she whispered back with a grin.
“Your dress might be a problem for me tonight.”
“Is it inappropriate?”
“No, it’s perfect,” he murmured. “It’s just…not the sort of thing I was expecting. I love it. I really love it.”
The warmth in her stomach spread all across her body, and Audrey slid her hand into his. She needed to touch him again. “Shall we?”
Theo eyed her shoes and shut the door behind her. “How about you put on your coat and I’ll carry you down? I don’t want you doing stairs when you don’t have to.”
She wrinkled her nose at him while he helped her slide her arms into her coat. “I can get down some stairs, Theo. I’m worried about your leg, and I’m not that clum—oh!”
She squeaked when he didn’t wait for her to answer and instead scooped her into his arms, gently but firmly cradling her against his chest, almost as though she were his bride.
Her cheeks burned so hot the second she had that thought, they had to have matched her dress.
Instead of protesting further, she only wrapped her arms around his neck and studied him quietly while he carefully carried her down the few flights of stairs to the door, meditating on the curves of his face and the dark moles speckled across them and how strong his arms were for him to lift her so easily like this.
When looking at him felt too intense, she let a hand fall to inspect the bow perfectly tied at his neck, trailing her fingers along its edges and tracing its shape.
Was this what he would look like if they got married?
Would he wear this same tux, or one like it?
And then another thought crept into her mind:
What would it be like having Theo not as her boyfriend, but as her husband?
She shook her head to clear it.
That thought was too big for tonight.
Before she could let herself be completely overwhelmed by it, they stepped outside into the cold and the snow and their driver ran to open the door to a sleek black Lexus.
Theo set her gently down inside, making sure all parts of her dress and coat were safely tucked in before circling around to the street side of the car.
That odd feeling Audrey had was still vibrating in her bones, burrowing down and settling deep into her marrow when the doors shut and they sped off to the gala.
They were quiet nearly the whole ride to the Plaza Hotel.
Audrey applied her lipstick as Violet had instructed, and when she snapped her compact shut, Theo’s fingers slid across the supple leather of the seats and laced together with hers.
He kept looking at her, his eyes roving up and down, but always landing back on her face—and though he didn’t say anything, especially not with his mother’s longtime driver, Wesley, in the front seat humming contentedly along to the radio, he didn’t have to.
It was written all over him, in the way he leaned toward her, how rosy his cheeks were in the flashes of gold from the streetlights outside, how his smile softened the curves of his plush lips and the sharp planes of his face.
God, did she love him.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Theo finally said, startling a little.
He’d been so intently focused on her, but now he finally broke his gaze and leaned forward, reaching around to the front to grab something Wesley passed him before sitting back with a thin, black velvet box clutched in his hands.
“I picked this up for you on the way over.”
Audrey shook her head in disbelief when he placed it in her lap. “Theo, no. Did you—?”
He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck and tried to hide a smile. “Yeah, I might have borrowed some family jewelry from the safe deposit box. With Mom’s permission, of course, and with one condition: she wants pictures.” He pointed at her lap. “Open it.”
She flipped open the box and blanched.
“A-are you crazy?!” she sputtered, gazing back up at him with wide eyes. “I—Theo, I can’t—”
“Sure you can. Here, let me help you put it on. Turn around.”
“You can’t be serious.”
He raised an eyebrow at her and gave her a stern look. “Oh, I’m quite serious, Miss Adams.”
“This isn’t a family heirloom or something, is it?”
He ignored the question. “We’re going to a black-tie gala and there’s a dress code. This is a Manhattan glitterati event. You’re going to be mingling with a lot of very wealthy people, and you should look the part. Just for one night. It’ll be fun, I promise.”
She frowned at him. “But I’m not—I-I’m just a barista from Florida. I’m not one of them. I don’t know—”