• HUMAN AU •
"Wow."
A single strand of breath caught in Keefe's chest. Even as a fit of coughing threatened to overtake him, he reminded himself that his reactions to her on a daily basis were identical to right now.
This dress, however . . .
"I knew I should've gone with the blue one," Sophie mumbled, jerking Keefe's attention back to her face — and not the snug red dress that pronounced everything good about her.
"No," Keefe murmured, busy admiring the asymmetric neckline, which was a far cry from her regular oversized sweatshirts. "I love this one."
"Really?" Ease settled in over her features.
"Yeah, Foster — trust me." For the first time in a while, he smiled. "Actually, my only problem is betting how many times you'll trip on the hem."
Sophie reached out to shove his shoulders, but Keefe caught her hands, and instead, brought them to rest at the back of his neck. She blushed, as per usual.
"Gotta say," Keefe said, "I'm digging the way your cheeks match your dress."
"Shut up, will you?"
Grinning wickedly, he murmured, "Gladly."
Sophie tensed. She took a step back, which fortunately played right into Keefe's plan. He backed her up further, until the heels of her silver flats met the doorframe. With his eyes on her lips, the only step remaining was to take her hands and pin them above her head . . .
"Keefe," Sophie whispered, already breathless.
But then he grinned, dropping her arms to her sides. "Nah."
"Nah?"
"Not worth it."
Sophie glared daggers. "Excuse me?"
"You think I'm going to kiss you when Grady could come out at any second?" Keefe clicked his tongue at her ignorance. "Not only would your boyfriend be dead, but your dad would be imprisoned for murder."
Sophie's offense melted into a laugh. "Good point."
Instead of kissing her — which Keefe was dying to do, by the way — he rested an arm around her waist and led her to his car. Although Keefe had his own vehicle, for this occasion he'd taken his father's without permission.
A brand new Ferrari.
Sophie grinned at him as he opened her door. "You didn't."
"I did."
"Your dad's going to kill you."
Keefe circled to opposite side and jumped into the driver's seat. He flattened a hand over his dress shirt, realizing only then that it was wrinkled.
"Worth it," he decided.
Sophie shook her head, muttering something that sounded like "bad boys" under her breath.
Downright giddy, Keefe backed the car out of her driveway and began down the street. Sophie tensed almost instantly, her hands going to the sides of her seat.
"Relax, Foster. I'm a great driver."
"You're already speeding," she said, which was a fair point. But he'd never been one to follow the rules.
Just to ease her worry, he slowed. But only a little. And when that didn't help, he reached across the console and rested his hand on her thigh. True to his hypothesis, Sophie fell immediately still.
