24. A Perfect Gentleman
Chapter twenty-four
A Perfect Gentleman
I regretted asking JP to be my date the moment he arrived to pick me up for the Diamond Gala.
For one, I’d told him he didn’t need to. He lived next door. I was capable of walking across the yard to his car, since he’d said he’d drive us.
For two, it was degrading to know my dad didn’t trust me enough to pick a dress that wouldn’t embarrass him at the gala, but trusted JP enough to believe he’d make sure I showed up to the gala instead of making the two of us share a town car with himself and Kimberlee.
Although, he made it clear that if I pulled something like not bothering to attend because he wasn’t there to make sure I left, I could kiss my apartment goodbye.
Begrudging though it was, I had to admit getting out of going to the venue early was a relief, regardless of the reason. Kimberlee was on the board for the charity the Diamond Gala supported and my dad was giving a speech during the event because he donated a bunch of money or something, so they had to be at the venue early. At least this way I didn’t have to sit around the hotel for any longer than I had to.
The doorbell rang at the exact time I said I’d meet JP on his driveway. Annoyed because I fucking knew it was him, I took my time touching up my lipstick. My hair and makeup had been done by the people Kimberlee hired to come over earlier in the day, but my dad’s assistant, Pierre, had brought all-dressed bagels from Fairmont Bagel that morning along with a large pack of smoked salmon and a bunch of cream cheese. And yeah, there would be plenty of food at the gala.
But also, bagels.
So I’d helped myself to one before brushing my teeth so my breath didn’t smell like salmon, and then fixed my lipstick because obviously I’d smeared it while both eating and brushing my teeth. Tucking the tube into the Kimberlee-approved clutch purse, I made my way down the stairs and didn’t bother looking through the peephole before flinging the door open.
And fuck
Fuck.
I’d fucked up.
Because the third reason I regretted asking JP to be my date was now standing in front of me.
JP had always been good-looking. The childhood version of me would never in this lifetime admit to it, but had thought that the boy next door was the cutest thing I’d ever seen, even though I didn’t know what to do with a thought like that until I was in my teens. He was the easy kind of handsome that just didn’t seem fair. The golden hair, the blue eyes, even the single crooked tooth in his otherwise perfect smile because it meant you couldn’t even write him off as plastic, as a Ken doll with an empty head or the result of thousands of dollars of plastic surgery.
He was real, and it was unfair.
Especially when you considered everything else about him. He wasn’t a Ken doll anywhere else, either; I could definitely attest to that. He had money—too much money—and he was smart—too fucking smart—and I hated it.
I fucking hated it.
Because he wasn’t just those things. He was also funny and logical and principled and thoughtful.
Because he represented the thing I was desperately trying to squirm away from.
Granted, he seemed to despise it, at least a bit. So at least there was that. Sure, it may be because he found galas and benefits boring or a waste of time. But there was that hint of resistance in him, too, that spark of displeasure with the way things were even though on the surface, he had it all. And along with that, the uncertainty of how to express how much it bothered him.
Because I had that, too.
I had the shame of complaining, of being unhappy, of crying because my dad threw out all my designer clothes and might not pay for my apartment and made me go to fancy parties. I had the shame of knowing there were people out there with bigger problems who would love to have these problems, who would love to play the golden child to get their tuition covered, who would have laughed at me for daring to wish for more.
Even though the “more” that I wanted was something you couldn’t get with money.
The point was, JP was part of this. He was part of the lifestyle my dad loved. He was part of the back room business deals and corner offices that went to someone’s son. He was part of the designer names and fancy cars and who-knew-who.
JP looked like those things. He came from those things. He was part of that horrible, shallow, deceivingly ugly world.
And he proved it wasn’t all bad. It wasn’t all ugly. It wasn’t all plastic.
The man standing at my door was outlined by the glow of the sun behind him. He was wearing a suit that wasn’t quite navy and wasn’t quite royal blue with a cream-coloured shirt. His hair was pushed back from his face, though it wasn’t overstyled, so it looked thick and natural as it caught rays of that golden sunlight.
Oh, and the tie he’d been so fucking worried about.
It wasn’t the exact same colour as my dress, so it didn’t look too high-school-prom. Instead, he’d gone with a slightly darker and more muted shade that complemented my dress perfectly and set off the blue of his eyes, making them pop even more. Small crosses were embroidered in the same colour thread to give it some texture, and the knot sat tied beneath his collar, so flawlessly knotted that made me want to yank it open and mess it up.
In short, fuck .
“I know I look good, but you’re going to have to tear your eyes away eventually so we can get going,” JP said. “You’re already running late.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I shot back. “I was trying to figure out how to ask if that was what you were really wearing or if you were planning on changing before we have to be seen in public.”
He laughed, showing off the crooked tooth on the side of his mouth. “Is your dad still home?”
“No,” I said. “The town car left a while ago.”
“Good.”
Before I could ask why that was good, he stepped through the doorway, lifting his hand in a smooth motion and cupping my cheek. A surprisingly heated kiss was pressed to my lips and I did my best not to melt. But if there was one thing JP was good at—besides the many things I had to begrudgingly admit JP was good at—it was making me feel like an ice cube clutched in a bare hand, layer upon layer turning to liquid and dripping to the floor until I was nothing but a puddle.
“We don’t have time for this right now,” I forced myself to say against his lips, though I couldn’t quite pull away.
“For what?” He slipped a hand behind my back, pulling my body closer to his. “For kisses?”
“Mmm… yeah.” It came out more breathlessly than I intended and my face burned. I pushed him away and glared up at him through my eyelashes. “I don’t have time to fix my makeup again or wait around while you try to get rid of an inconvenient boner.”
“You wouldn’t help me with said inconvenient boner?” he asked, feigning hurt.
“What’s in it for me?” I asked dryly.
He laughed again, then leaned in for one more kiss, giving me plenty of time to push him away before his lips met mine.
And I didn’t, of course.
“You look good, Nell,” he murmured, his voice low. “Really good. I can’t wait to tear this dress off and fuck you in the ass tonight.”
I shoved him away again and he cackled, catching himself before he stumbled into the door frame.
“Come on,” I grumbled, turning to put my shoes on. “You said we were late already, so let’s get this over with.”
“The gala, right?” JP asked, holding his hand out so I could use it to balance as I shoved my feet into the heels I’d been told to wear. “Because I plan on taking my time with the anal thing.”
Despite every effort, I couldn’t hold back my laugh. “Yes, the gala, you fuckwit.”
“Fuckwit!” He faked a gasp, then let go of my hand once I had both heels on and held his arm out in a way that was completely unnecessary given that no one was around to see us. “Careful now. Let me remind you which of us is getting fucked in the—”
“You’re obnoxious,” I said, taking his completely unnecessary arm so he could lead me to his car. “Anne-Marie is already suspicious. If you keep acting like this while we’re there—”
“I won’t,” he said. “I’ll be such a gentleman, babe.”
“Off to a good start,” I said with a fake sniff as we walked outside and I spotted his car parked in its usual spot on the Marchands’ driveway. “A gentleman wouldn’t have made me walk across the lawn to his car in these heels.”
“Hmm,” JP said thoughtfully. “You’re right. Should I carry you?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’d hurt yourself trying to lift me.”
He scoffed. “I would not.”
“Well, you might hurt me when you drop me.”
“I wouldn’t drop you, babe. You’re not—”
“Don’t say it.” I lifted a hand, glaring at him. “I know I’m hot as fuck, but I’m not small, JP.”
The smirk that played on his lips wasn’t unexpected, but only because JP was smirking about eighty percent of the time. “I was going to say ‘heavy enough for me to drop,’ for the record.”
“Whatever. You can’t ca— ahh !”
JP let go of my arm and dipped, making me shriek as he lifted me into a princess carry in a single swift motion. An instinct I didn’t know I had, having never been fucking carried before, scrambled to clutch at him, but I missed his shoulder. Instead, my fingers wrapped around his perfectly tied tie and succeeded in messing it up like I’d wanted. Flailing, I kicked my legs, and my left heel went soaring about ten feet down my dad’s driveway and thunked against the side of my Honda Civic.
JP then proved my point about not being able to carry me, though it wasn’t because he dropped me. He just started laughing so hard that he had to put me down, nearly doubling over once I was back on solid ground and trying to steady myself despite being three inches taller on one side than the other.
“What the hell , JP?!” I hissed. “You can’t just lift someone!”
“I just did,” he chuckled, reaching up to fix his tie before going to get the shoe I’d kicked off. “Though next time, I’ll probably do a fireman’s carry so you don’t strangle me while launching shoes all over the neighbourhood.”
“Bastard,” I muttered, but I doubted he heard me.
He bent over to pick up my heel and brought it back, but instead of putting it into my outstretched hand, he dropped to his knee in front of me. I barely had time to be unsettled before he was lifting the hem of my dress, only then noticing the high slit that revealed my left leg.
“Hmm,” he said, tracing a finger up my bare leg from my ankle to my knee. “This might be convenient.”
“You need to stop,” I whispered, though the trail of goosebumps beneath his finger said otherwise. “What if someone’s watching?”
“Everyone’s gone already.” He moved his hand back to my ankle, guiding my foot up with one hand so he could slip my heel on it with the other. “Your dad and Kimberlee left ages ago. My parents are staying at the hotel, too, so they checked in this morning and are getting ready there. Anne-Marie went to Remy’s to get ready. And Marc-Andre went on a bender at one of his friend’s cottages this weekend.” He leaned in, eyes flicking up as he pressed a kiss to my thigh. “It’s just you and me, babe.”
And anyone in the neighbourhood who was looking right around then, I wanted to add, but the words were caught in my throat and didn’t make it out of my mouth before he rose to his feet.
“So, should we try this again?” he asked, reaching for me, then snickered as I batted his arms away.
Thankfully, he seemed to think it was because I was annoyed with him, and not because the sheer delight of having someone pick me up like that had made my legs wobbly. Because if he did it again, there was a very good chance we’d have to fuck in the backseat of his car before getting to the gala and I did not have time for that.
“I can manage myself,” I snapped, starting towards the Marchands’ yard.
“I thought you wanted me to be a gentleman!” he said, following me.
“Yeah, at the gala .”
“Oh, thank God,” he sighed from behind me. “I was wondering how I’m supposed to be a gentleman when I shove my dick in your—”
“For fucks’ sake,” I grumbled, and JP dissolved into laughter again as I stomped away from him.
He caught up once we were on the driveway, jogging slightly so he reached the passenger door before me. He didn’t make another smart-ass comment, so I didn’t give him shit for opening it for me, and flipped the visor down so I could touch up my lipstick again as he walked around the car and got in.
Neither of us said much as we started driving. It wasn’t until I’d put my lipstick away and we were turning out of the neighbourhood that JP cleared his throat.
“So,” he said. “We haven’t really talked about last time.”
Fuck.
“What about last time?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could.
“Shit got a little intense,” he said.
“I mean, if you consider that intense, I guess.”
He sounded amused. “You don’t?”
I kept my eyes facing straight ahead, staring at the road in front of us. “I’ve had intense…r.”
That earned me a chuckle. “Okay. Well, even if it wasn’t the intense-iest thing you’ve ever experienced, I wanted to make sure we’re cool.”
“I’m cool,” I said. “You, on the other hand, are a fucking nerd.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw him grin. “That means you’re fucking a nerd, then.”
“So? I fuck pretty much anyone. You’re not special.”
He laughed harder. “Seriously, though. I’ll take that as a yes, then?”
I pressed my lips together, picking at the side of my thumb. “I mean, yeah. I’m okay. If you’re okay.”
“I am, yeah.”
“Okay. Then… great.”
“We’re cool?”
“We’re cool.”
There was a weird sort of beat there, something that was relieved but still heavy with awkward tension.
“I do, uh, want to say thanks, though,” JP said.
I wasn’t sure I liked the seriousness in his voice. “For what?”
He cleared his throat, turning his head to glance out the driver’s window before looking forward again. “For, ah, letting me tell you. About… him. Sam. And just being around that day.”
“Oh,” I said. “Um. No problem.”
“Seriously,” he said. “It meant a lot.”
“It’s really okay,” I said. “I mean, you’re welcome, but it’s not a big deal.”
“It is, though,” he insisted. “At least to me. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone do that for me before or ask to hear more about him and I wanted you to know I appreciate it, okay? Because it’s… it was… nice.”
I tapped my foot nervously in the wheel well. “Stop it, JP.”
“Stop what?”
“You’re talking like things aren’t cool.”
Something about my voice made JP glance at me, which I only knew because I saw his reflection in the windshield as I kept my eyes glued to the front of the car.
“Oh,” he said, and his voice lightened. “My bad. I mean, I wanted to say thank you for working so hard on not sounding like a bleating goat when you come. I noticed a marked improvement over the last time, so—”
“Oh my God ,” I groaned as he started laughing. “You’re a fucking nerd.”
“Not currently,” he said. “Right now I’m just a nerd, but later, when I’ve got my dick buried in your—”
“JP!” I nearly shouted. “Oh my God. You can’t act like that when we get there. You promised to be a gentleman.”
“I know, babe.” He reached over, putting a hand on my thigh and squeezing. “Don’t worry. I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”