The Idea of You (22 page)

She cocked her head to the side. “How long do you think it takes me to get ready? Don't answer that. Longer than you think, especially when I'm on my own. I even had to paint my own toenails. This is much easier when you have a team.” She chuckled. “Wow, do I sound like a pampered princess or what?”

“You sound like an A-list movie star who's used to things a certain way. There's nothing wrong with that.”

She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “You are the least judgmental person I know. It's one of the things I like most about you.”

He'd never been good at judging people—for better or for worse. He'd been horribly taken advantage of in his youth on a few occasions. Thankfully he'd had his siblings to step in and protect him from assholes.

They continued to drive west, and his curiosity over their destination grew. “I'm trying to think of where we're going, and I'm drawing a blank.”

“It's not exactly an obvious place for a date. At least not at our age.”

Now he was really confused. The limo turned left off the highway and followed the country road for a few miles. They were headed toward another small town southwest of Ribbon Ridge, but there was nothing there, save an Elks Lodge, a tiny, family-owned diner, and a lavender farm. Oh, and the high school that served all of the small towns in this part of the valley.

Just as he thought that, the limo turned up the road leading to West Valley High School. “Are we going to my high school?”

They pulled into the parking lot, so clearly, yes, they were. The limo stopped in front of the gym. The driver opened the right-hand door and helped Alaina out. Evan watched her long legs unfold as she stood on the curb. He liked her in heels. Unbelievably sexy.

He climbed out, and she took his hand. He followed her toward the door to the gym. “What about the driver?”

“He'll wait.”

Mesmerized by the sway of her hips, he trailed her until she reached the door. He stepped around her and pulled it open. “It's unlocked.”

She looked up at him, her lips curved. “It's all part of the surprise. Come inside.” She stepped over the threshold and then to the side to allow him to move beside her.

The door clanged shut behind him, and he felt as though he'd stepped into another world. A world he'd seen in a high-school yearbook but had never experienced for himself.

The gym was awash in twinkling white lights, pale blue and white streamers, and more balloons than he'd ever seen in his life.

“How?” He didn't get the rest of the question out. Couldn't.

He headed farther inside, his eyes moving quickly from one detail to another. There was a pergola strung with lights on one wall. In front of it was a camera on a tripod. There was a table with a punch bowl and two glasses. Another table sported all sorts of candy set up in intricate displays—licorice sticks, a cascade of colored candies, even a chocolate fountain. A disco ball hung over the far end of the gym, and at the other was a small, rectangular table with candles and covered plates.

“It looks like a high-school dance. All except the champagne chilling next to the table.” Assuming that was champagne and not sparkling cider. “I'll be really disappointed if that's some lame nonalcoholic beverage.”

She laughed. “It's not.”

“How did you do this?” He shook his head and turned toward her. “No,
why
did you do this?”

“You said you never went to prom. I did, and mine was stupid. I barely stayed fifteen minutes. I thought we both deserved a nice memory of something we hadn't done. Something we could share together.”

He couldn't come up with words at all. No one had ever done anything like this for him. Oh, fuck words anyway. They were completely overrated. He clasped her waist and drew her hard and fast against him, his mouth sweeping down to claim hers. He poured all of the things he couldn't think to say into the kiss, thanking her, appreciating her, loving her.

Loving her?

Is this what love felt like? He didn't know, but he didn't want the feeling to end.

She stretched her body against his and curled her fingers into his nape, tugging on his hair and meeting the thrust of his tongue with hard, delicious strokes. She moved her hands forward and cupped his face before pulling back. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving. But not for food.”

“Later. There's dinner, and we have to dance. It is a dance, after all.”

He'd been so focused on all the visuals that he'd missed the music piping through the sound system. He wasn't certain of the song, but it was Kelly Clarkson, and it was definitely from his high-school era. “You thought of everything, even the music. I'm pretty sure this is from my senior year.”

“Yep. I graduated two years ahead of you, so the playlist spans a few years.” She took his hand again and led him to the table.

“That's right. I'm dating an older woman. But I guess that's my MO.”

She looked at him over her bare shoulder. Damn, that was one sexy dress. “I thought you hadn't really dated anyone before.”

Her tone seemed playful—at least he thought so. He was beginning to read her the way he was able to read his family. “True. But I typically only hang with older women. I hadn't put that together until now.” Michelle was in her early thirties, and the girl he'd hooked up with in college had been a grad student who'd also been on the spectrum.

She laughed softly. “It's good to know my age is working for me in
some
way.”

They arrived at the table, and he held out her chair, then gently scooted her forward. “What do you mean?”

The wine had already been uncorked—someone or maybe several someones had to be working behind the scenes here—so he pulled it from the ice bucket and filled the flutes on the table. He looked at the label and recognized it as one of the best sparkling wines from Oregon. “Great choice,” he said.

“It came highly recommended. To answer your question, I meant that my age isn't usually my best selling point at this stage of my career. I'm past the ingénue period, and right now Hollywood can't figure out what to do with me.”

“Hollywood is stupid. I know exactly what to do with you.”

She arched a brow at him as she picked up her glass. “What's that?”

“In keeping with the Hollywood theme, do you want the PG version or the R-rated one?”

“Definitely R, and maybe later you can show me X.” She lifted her glass. “To X-rated fantasies coming true.”

He stared at her mouth and came up with about fifty new fantasies right there.

“Aren't you going to drink?” she asked.

He swiped up his glass and took a long swig, barely tasting it.

The music switched to “This Love” by Maroon 5. He tapped his foot. “I still have this on rotation on my iPod.”

“I love Maroon 5. Adam is the nicest guy—funny, too.”

“You know Adam Levine? Of course you do. You met Leonard Nimoy, for crying out loud.”

She nodded. “Guilty. It's weird, right? But we're just normal people.” She pulled the lid off her plate to reveal ribeye steak with a loaded baked potato and steamed veggies. “Hope you like dinner.”

He set his lid aside, and his stomach growled. “I forgot to eat lunch. This is my favorite meal.”

She grinned. “I know.”

He picked up his utensils and cut into his perfectly prepared steak. “How'd you pull all this off?”

“I had help—Sara mostly—with the setup and decorations and all that.”

“Makes sense, since that's what she does.”

“Kyle had a friend of his make the dinner in the school kitchen, if you can believe that.”

“I can't. I can't believe you got the school to cooperate.” He took a bite of steak—it was so damn good. A thought occurred to him as he swallowed. “You did get the school to cooperate, right?”

She laughed between bites of dinner. “Yes. We're here on the up and up, I promise. Sara helped me work it out with the school district, though I'm kind of cheating with the champagne, so don't tell anyone. We have full access to the gym.” She lowered her voice. “Although, that doesn't mean we can't go exploring if you want to show me around.”

“I honestly can't think of why I'd do that. High school doesn't hold fond memories for me.”

Her brow furrowed, and she took a drink of wine. “I'm sorry. Was it that bad?”

“It wasn't bad or good. It just was. I got through it, thanks to my brothers and sisters. But I wasn't into it like they were. Kyle was quarterback. Liam was student-body president and track star. Tori ran the yearbook and started a girls engineering club.”

“What about Sara and Alex?”

“They were more like me, though Sara sang in the choir and had a few parts in the musicals. And it's not that I did nothing. I was in the engineering club and the chess club. I played basketball my freshman year, but I didn't like it enough to continue, much to the coach's disappointment.”

“I bet. Were you this tall back then?”

He nodded. “Six-one by the time I hit ninth grade. I towered over most other guys. Which only made me feel more awkward.”

She reached across the table and touched his hand. “I hate that you felt awkward.”

“Didn't everyone?” He'd forgotten who he was talking to. “Scratch that. I'm pretty sure you've never had an awkward day in your life.”

She made a sound like a game-show buzzer. “Wrong.” She took a bite of potato and washed it back with some water. “I was tall for my age, too, and, uh,
endowed
.”

His gaze dropped to her breasts, which he knew firsthand to be absolutely magnificent. “How is that awkward? You were probably the most popular girl in school.”

“Not quite, but anyway, for the wrong reasons. Girls don't want to be known for their boobs or any other physical attribute.” She sounded irritated.

“Sorry, I didn't think about it like that, but I get it.” He scooped up a spoonful of potato. “So you felt weird?”

“I didn't like receiving attention for something I had no control over and about which I felt incredibly uncomfortable.”

He set his spoon down and stared at her. “That's how I felt to a T.”

Her features relaxed, and she smiled softly. “I thought you might understand.”

Beyoncé blasted over the speakers as they finished up their meals. “This is really incredible,” he said. “Do you want more wine?”

“Sure.” She held up her glass for him to pour. “Sorry there isn't anyone serving us. I preferred us to be alone.”

So they could be especially naughty in the high school if they wanted. He'd heard stories about people having sex in the orchestra pit under the stage in the auditorium and was pretty sure Liam had been one of them. He slid Alaina a glance, wondering if she'd be game. But she looked so beautiful, so perfect, like a decorated dessert you hated to ruin by eating. He didn't want to mess her up. He just wanted to stare at her all night.

God, if he said any of this nonsense out loud, she'd think he was the biggest tool. Thank God he'd learned to keep his mouth shut from time to time.

A slower song came on, and she scooted back in her chair. “Come on, it's dancing time.”

He hadn't quite finished his dinner, but he didn't care. He'd meant it when he'd said he wasn't starving for food.

She twined her fingers through his and led him to the disco ball. It spun slowly, raining glistening lights over the walls and floor.

He circled his arm around her waist. “This is where I tell you I've never danced in my life.”

Her jaw dropped. “No way.”

“Way. Do I take your hand?”

“You can, or we can do it old school and I'll just put my arms around your neck like this.” Her breasts pressed against his chest in this position, and their hips were separated by a mere inch.

He put his other hand around her waist and pulled her closer to eliminate that inch. “I think I prefer old school.”

She tipped her hips back and forth to the slow reggae beat. Her pelvis ground lightly against his, coaxing his cock to full attention.

“If you don't stop that, we're going to be doing something other than dancing,” he said.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Things we probably shouldn't do in a high school.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I'm sure it's all been done before.” She pulled his head down and kissed him.

When they came up for air a moment later, he was painfully aware of his raging erection and the feel of her ass in his hands.

“We already had the champagne, which we weren't supposed to do.” She giggled. “I suppose we could find . . . someplace. Although, I have a pretty killer after-party planned.”

“Now. Let's go now.”

“But this is your dance!” The music changed and sped up a bit. She held on to his neck and tipped her head back. “We should stay awhile.”

He leaned forward and nuzzled her neck before kissing along her collarbone to her bare shoulder. “God you taste amazing.”

She sighed as she dug her fingers into his neck. “Evan.”

“We're not staying. Tell me the driver's waiting outside.” He licked her flesh and kissed her.

“He is.”

“And tell me we don't have to worry about anything here.” He brought his hand up her back and around her rib cage to cup her breast through the dress.

“We don't.”

“Now tell me your after-party is close.” He flicked his thumb over her nipple and licked along her collarbone.

“Uh . . . ”

He nipped at her, eliciting a gasp from her throat and pressure on his neck from her hands. “Wrong answer,” he said just before he kissed her savagely, driving his tongue into her mouth. She clutched at his hair and kissed him back, meeting his intensity with her own.