"Lie to me," he whispered. His face was so close and I couldn't breathe.
"Lie to me and tell me you don't want me as much as I want you. Lie to me and tell me you don't want to press those pretty lips of yours to mine right now. Lie to me and tell m...
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Rowen Hendrix was standing at my door, in a suit, with roses in his hand.
Never would I have thought that my life would come to this - opening up the door to see Rowen Hendrix, picking me up for dinner.
"Alaska," he said, a smile on his lips.
I watched as he surveyed my casually-dressed self, not at all ready for what he was dressed for.
My jaw clenched. "You didn't tell me we were going formal."
He tilted his head. "I thought you would've assumed that."
"Why would I assume that?" I hissed.
"Be nice. They're watching."
I risked a glance behind him to see that indeed, not-very-well-hid paparazzi were flashing pictures behind my gate.
I rolled my eyes. "Get in."
"A 'please' would be nice," he said as he stepped in.
Giving him a blank stare, I snatched the flowers from his hands and brought them to the kitchen. After putting them in a water-filled vase, I turned to him. "Stay here. I'm going to change."
"I could accompany you-"
"No."
He shrugged. "We need to make sure you match, you know."
"You're wearing black and white," I deadpanned. "There's not much to match with."
"My tie," he reasoned. I glanced at it, noting it's deep red color.
"Red? Seriously?"
He looked offended. "I chose red for you."
"Why?" I muttered, turning to go up the stairs.
"You have a lot of red dresses, yeah? I figured it would be the best match."
For a second, I wondered how he knew I owned a lot of red dresses (which was true), but I pushed the thought away as I pushed open the door to my room.
Thank god I cleaned it before he came. I led him over to my closet, stepping inside and turning on the lights.
Yes, I had too many clothes. Yes, half of them I hadn't even worn before. But I loved my closet, and clothes were my weakness.
I led him to my red area - yes, I had it color coded - and started pulling out formal wear that would match the color of his tie.
He started shuffling through them too, and I didn't miss his reactions at some of the very questionable outfits I had hanging here.
He pulled one out, laughing. "How about this?"
I narrowed my eyes. The dress he pulled out - if it was even considered a dress - was short. Very short. There weren't sleeves, and it exposed my entire stomach. The sides of the dress came back in a V to meet the skirt, and my breasts would practically fall out of the tiny thing.
