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Answering Alexis’s question, I glanced back at James. “If the expression on his face is any indication, then he’s more than regretting it.”
“Do you think this dress”—she gestured to herself—“is getting his dick hard?”
I giggled. “I think your dress is getting every guy here hard.”
“Fabulous.” She beamed, whipping back her long blond hair. “It was the vibe I was going for.”
We were at a Hollywood Hills party with A-list guests only. I was dressed more low-key than her, always wanting to keep a low profile no matter where I went. Unless it was an award show or an appearance and then I was dressed in nothing but couture, designed specifically for me to wear.
I was in a high-waisted nude pencil skirt with a tight black crop top and nude ankle pumps with red bottoms. I left my wavy brown hair down, framing my high cheekbones, and went heavy on the black eye makeup with a bit of blush and vanilla lip gloss.
For the next hour, I sipped some champagne with Alexis by the pool overlooking the LA lights and stars. When I needed to clear my head, I’d go up Mulholland Drive and sit on the hood of my car for hours on end. I’d get lost in the city of dreams and loved every second of it. I was constantly working on one thing or another, and it was nice to have a place I could escape to where nobody demanded something from me.
“Hiiiiii...” Alexis greeted, walking over to someone I didn’t care for.
I internally rolled my eyes as I abruptly turned around and slammed face-first into a solid muscular chest that felt like a brick wall while my drink spilled all over the front of my outfit.
“Shit,” a deep voice spewed as I leaned forward from the cold champagne assaulting my warm skin.
“Ugh!” I grumbled, not paying any mind to the man I crashed into before I rushed toward the first bathroom I could find.
“Hey!” he called out behind me, following me into the bathroom. “Let me help you.”
Before I could oblige, he grabbed the towel by the sink and started patting the champagne off my chest.
What the hell?
Tearing the towel out of his grasp, I countered, “I got it.”
“Right,” he replied with a sudden anxious tone that made me peer up at him through my long thick lashes.
I sucked in a light breath when I locked eyes with the guy I least expected.
Surrendering his hands in the air in front of him, he acknowledged, “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to cop a feel.”
I mindlessly stood there for a few seconds, not knowing how to proceed with him.
“You okay?” he asked, snapping me right out of it.
“Yeah.” I shook off his apology, looking down at my soaked outfit instead.
“Oh!” he chimed in. “I got it!” He quickly jumped into action, opening the cabinet under the sink.
Once he had a blow-dryer in his hand, our eyes connected again for the second time in years. Our intense stares didn’t match the lightheartedness of our situation, and within seconds, we bursted out laughing hysterically.
“How did you know that was going to be in there?” I questioned, catching my bearings.
He shrugged. “Lucky guess.”
“Yeah, so it seems.” I grabbed the blow-dryer out of his hand. “I don’t think this will save the stain in my skirt that’s already setting.”
“You’re probably right.” He stepped away, rubbing the back in his head. “I didn’t see you standing out there. You know,” he teased with a nod. “Despite your six-inch heels, you’re still pretty short.”
My eyebrows rose. “I resent that. You’re actually still a giant.”
“I’m just a growing boy at six-four.”
“There’s nothing boy about you anymore.”
