Chapter 31
An Almost Moon
Kodi
Kean: Brooker says I need a tux for this auction
Me: Yes, I have a list of options for you
Kean: Shouldn’t I go get fitted?
Me: No, I’ve got all your measurements
Kean: But it’s a big investment
Me: Not really, you don’t need to * buy * one, a rental will do
Kean: I’d like to buy one
Me: Okay, I’ll send you some links to choose from
Kean: I want to pick in person
Kean: And I’d like you to come too
Kean: Please?
Me: Okay?
Seated on the couch outside the fitting room with Taylor and Brooker, I was braced for … something. I don’t know what it was, but this whole tux shopping trip was weird.
For one, it was wild that Kean wanted to buy a suit. When would he ever wear it again? This dude was too introverted to make this purchase worthwhile. It was going to sit in his closet and collect dust the second it got back from the cleaners.
And two, the whole entourage thing was also not Kean. I could maybe understand why he wanted me here. Having a woman’s opinion on clothes was a typical dude thing. But Brooker being here was wild. As far as I could tell, Brooker annoyed the hell out of Kean on a good day. So why was he invited?
“Kodi, can you tell Kean he should buy something with some color?” Brooker said, holding up a forest-green suit jacket.
“I’m not —” Kean started before Brooker cleared his throat and my boss changed his tune, looking towards me. “Do you think it’d look good?”
“Me?” When Kean nodded, I went over to take the jacket from Brooker and held it up to Kean’s chest. The color was nice against his tanned skin, but it kinda clashed with the shade of his eyes.
They were such a bright, fresh green. If he wanted to do a color, he’d be better off going with something complementary rather than matching.
But that was probably thinking about it too much.
“No. If you’re investing in a tux, you should get classic black.”
“Boo,” Brooker shouted. He stomped over to the seats and crashed down beside Taylor.
“Patience, dude,” the other man whispered.
Wrinkling my nose, I put the green jacket back on the rack and grabbed a classic black one with a velvet collar.
Classic with a touch of modern. I went around the store and grabbed matching pieces and suspenders and a bow tie for …
well, me. Fuck if he wanted me to pick something out, I might as well get some good material for the spank bank.
“Here.” I shoved the clothes into Kean’s arms. “See if you like these.”
Kean opened his mouth, then shut it just as quickly. I tilted my head, curious if he’d say whatever it was he wanted, but was distracted by some fast motion happening in the corner of my vision. I turned to see Brooker and Taylor looking away, hands behind their backs.
“Is this your favorite?” Kean asked after clearing his throat.
“Oh, um …” I looked away from the suspicious troublemakers and back to Kean. “Yeah.”
Again there was a blur of motion behind me and I gritted my teeth to not snap my head to look at them.
“Good,” Kean mumbled, nodding before walking to the fitting room.
“Holler if you need different sizes of anything,” I shouted after him before turning to the other two with narrowed eyes. “What’re you guys doing? Did you come along just to tease Kean? I expected better of you, Taylor.”
“Wow, that hurts,” Brooker murmured.
“We’re not teasing him,” Taylor assured.
“Then what’s with all the hand movements? Were you flipping him off?”
“Can you believe she thinks so little of us?”
“Of you? Yes. But Kodi, we’re just … helping the guy out. He’s gotta dress up, show off, then maybe go on a date with a stranger. He’s nervous.”
“Oh.” I joined them on the couch, shoulders sinking. “I didn’t think about that part of it. Is he nervous or anxious?”
“What’s the difference?” Brooker asked.
“Like, is he not looking forward to it or is making him lose sleep?”
Both of them shrugged before sharing a look.
“But it’d probably make him feel better if he knew who was bidding on him,” Brooker suggested, eyes on the floor.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll know some of the donors.” Though even as I said that, I realized since Kean didn’t go to these kind of events, he probably wouldn’t know anyone.
“I’d bid on him, but I think that’d piss him off more than no one bidding on him.”
“Oh my god!” I gasped. “I hadn’t even thought about that! Do you think no one’ll bid on him?”
Again the boys shared a look and shrugged.
Fuck, if no one bid on him after I forced Kean to do this, he’d never do these sort of things again. He’d go back to shunning the social aspect of being in a professional league and shorten his time with the Dastards. And subsequently mine.
I shot up to my feet and went over to Kean’s fitting room and knocked, he murmured something and I heard the click of the latch.
“Kean, are you —” I started to say as I cracked open the door, but abruptly stopped when I saw he was bent over to pull up the slacks.
His ass was pointed at me, plump enough to make my hands twitch, and I was rendered speechless as he slid the fabric up thick thighs that had an even dusting of light hair.
“Yeah?” Kean said, straightening up and turning to me as he tucked his … bits in to zip up the pants.
Heat seared through me and I pulled the door shut in a panic.
“Shit, that was ballsy,” Brooker murmured from the couch.
The door was pulled from my hand as Kean opened it back up, pants zipped, but shirt only half buttoned.
“What was that about?” he asked, brow furrowed like he was confused by my reaction.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you were … incident.” I couldn’t look at Kean, my eyes were glued to a mannequin to his right.
“I wasn’t?” he said like he wasn’t super sure of that fact. He looked over my shoulders and shook his head. “Could you help with these buttons? They’re … stiff.”
“Oh.” I’m not a hundred percent sure I’d be able to look at Kean for a solid forty-eight hours, but if I didn’t help him out now, that’d be like admitting I was checking him out. “Sure.”
Swallowing a lump in my throat, I stepped up to Kean. I kept my eyes on the buttons as I worked them and pretended like I couldn’t smell the sweet vanilla and shea butter of his body wash.
“So what was it you wanted?” he asked as I reached his collar bone.
“Oh, I wanted to know if you’re nervous about the event and … who might bid on you.”
Kean tilted his head back as I reached the last few buttons, Adam’s apple bobbing.
“I guess so. It’d be … nice if someone I liked bid on me.”
“Yeah,” I said with a nervous chuckle, fingers shaking as I finished the last button. “That’d be nice.”
Kean’s hand wrapped around mine, holding them against his chest and tilting his chin down to look at me.
“Would you bid on me?”
My brain was no longer forming coherent thoughts. Instead it was just playing TV static.
“If I had the money … maybe.”
“Maybe?” He squeezed my hand tighter, one eyebrow lifting.
“Well, bidding starts at 500. So …” I trailed off, visions of Kean’s ass dancing around my head like cartoon stars.
“You have my card.”
I heard a gasp from the couch, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Kean to see which of the boys reacted.
It didn’t really matter, all that mattered was that Kean was hot and sweet and I think he just said he liked me in a roundabout way.
I was suddenly a teenager, picking up on the vibe that my crush was trying to make a move but was too nervous to actually say the words.
And if I just initiated, just took one more step, I’d get what I wanted.
Except maybe that sort of behavior was just reckless impulsiveness. Maybe those decisions are all connected to how I’m never taken seriously.
Or maybe they’re unrelated.
I wanted them to be unrelated.
“I guess,” I started, voice shaky. “If you’re in trouble, I could do that.”
“If I’m in trouble?” he repeated and I nodded. His eyes narrowed, looking into mine, searching for something. I don’t know what he saw, if he could see anything beyond the nerves and heat, but he eventually nodded and let go of my hand.
Kean went back to the changing room, leaving the door open as he put on the suspenders, tie, and jacket. I stood there, feet like lead, and watched him dress like it was the last thirty seconds of the World Cup. Every second, every movement, was important.
“Does it look all right?” Kean said, turning back to face me, straightening out his jacket collar.
And fuck, the heat between my thighs was too hot handle.
How dare Kean look so good in a suit? It should actually be illegal to look like that.
To have thighs that made the fabric of his slacks conform to him.
Seriously, if I ever got on my knees for this man, my teeth will be sinking into those legs.
“Yeah. Looks great.” My voice was a pitch too high and I turned on my heel so Kean didn’t see the way my face reddened. “I’ve gotta go, but if you leave it at your place, I’ll come by and take it to the dry cleaners. And … yeah, see you later.”
Then I got the fuck out of there.