“Yes, Mother,” I say as I start placing the extravagant decorations out.
This really is a big game. My alma mater has a few rivals, and while this isn'tthebig game of the year, it’s the team we all despise the most. It helps that they haven’t beaten us in over fifteen years.
Mom walks around, rearranging everything I’ve placed while humming a tune I can’t quite catch. “I’m so glad that you were able to come home a week early. Did you get everything settled with your newelectronicsstore?”
I choose to ignore the way she just insinuated my business isn’t a totally reputable security company and smile. “Yes, Mother, I was able to get everything settled.”
“Hmm, whatever you say, dear.” Mom clears her throat before continuing. “I really wasn’t expecting you this week, so I invited a new friend of mine. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Whatever you want, Mom. It’s your suite.”
What the fuck is that about? Of course I wouldn’t mind. There’s more than enough space in this suite, and I would be thrilled for my mom to spend more time with friends.
We spend the next hour finishing the setup and chatting about how the team’s been doing this year. I love coming to games, but this has been the first one this season I’ve been able to attend. I’m even more thrilled that both of my siblings are joining us today. It’s been quite a while since we’ve all three been together. I guess that’s why Mom has it looking like the Palace of Versailles. In contrast to the pastels and shimmering golds around the room, I stick out like a sore thumb in my matching black slacks and sport jacket. Mom told me to dress up, and if her own creamy-yellow two-piece skirt suit with gold embellishment is anything to go by, I’ll probably be one of the only guests in attendance notmatching the color scheme.
As our guests file into the suite, I notice everyone is indeed wearing soft hues. Margot waltzes in wearing a knee-length muted pink dress that complements her blonde hair. Jack swaggers in sporting a pair of light khaki slacks and a light blue dress shirt. Henry is the only other one who didn’t receive the memo, walking in wearing a dark charcoal-gray suit. It’s tailored to him perfectly, which, at six foot six, it would pretty much have to be. He may have an inch on me, but due to our different workout preferences, I’ve always been bulkier.
“It would seem Ledger and I are the only two attendees today uninformed about the dress code,” Henry says, greeting our mother with a composed hug.
Mom squeezes him hard and stands up on her tiptoes, kissing him on his cheek. “Oh please, like it would’ve mattered either way. I don’t think Ledger even owns a color other than black, and you never show up in anything less than a ten-thousand-dollar suit.”
I’m about to defend myself and let everyone know that while I definitely don’t own any pastel clothing, I wear colors other than black, when the most beautiful woman in the world walks into our suite.Sloane. I’m completely caught off guard. Sothisis Mom’s friend.I have indeed been giving her space while I was gone. I obviously had a tracker put in her new car, but unless the location is somewhere I have flagged, it won't alert me. That goes for her phone as well. I only have certain contacts and words set for alerts, and nothing has popped up. I clearly didn’t think that mymother’snumber needed to be added to that list.Now I’m standing here, eyes and mouth wide open, looking like I’ve seen a ghost.
She’sstunning. Her hair is pulled half back with a pale pink bow, matching the color of her dress. Her long platinum-blonde hair falls down her back in loose curls. Her silky pink dress is not quite floor length, but it hits well below her knees, showcasing the bottom of her muscular calves, which are enhanced by the strappy nude heels on her feet. The cowl neckline, low back, and slit up to her right thigh show just enough skin to maintain a tasteful look. Sheactuallylooks like a piece of cake. One that I would love to indulge in.Let them eat cake indeed.
Mom immediately walks over to greet her. “Sloane, darling! You made it! We are so happy to have you here. And I see you got my dress code memo. Oh darling, your outfit,I die.”
Sloane’s cheeks blush to match the color of her dress as my mother continues to gush over her beauty. It’s obvious she isn’t used to compliments, and that breaks my heart a little every time I see her struggle to accept one.
I pull myself together and walk to her as suavely as I can. I’m no Prince Charming, but my girl looks like a literal princess today, and I can’t help but try to match her energy.
“Angel.” I take Sloane’s hand in mine and gently kiss her knuckles. “You look stunning.”
This time, her blush turns a shade darker than her outfit. “Ledger! I didn’t think I would see you here. Your note said you'd be out of town for two weeks, and I thought—”
“Apparently, our boy was able to get back early.” Mom cuts her off with a wink. “Well, I’ll leave you all to it. The game is about to start, and I have a few more guests to welcome before we all take our seats.”
I notice I’m still holding Sloane’s hand in mine, but instead of letting it go, I interlace our fingers and lead her toward the seats. I should grab two in the front row since I’m sure she’s never been in one of the boxes before and would appreciate the view, but I don't.She’ll be here for any game she wants to be for the rest of her life. Instead, I lead us to the table seats in the very back. They’re arranged behind the rest of the seats, and the counter blocks anyone’s view of where my hands might roam. I help her into the seat against the wall and sit to her right, giving myself access to the side of her dress with that deliciously high slit.
As soon as we’re both seated, I lightly wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her body close to mine.
“If you didn’t know I was coming today, who, pray tell, were you wearing that scrumptious dress for?” I whisper in her ear.
Her eyes squint. “I’ve already told you, I dress for myself. I never get a chance to wear something like this, and I thought, given the theme of the party Blanche, er, your mom was planning, this would work.”
“Mmm, the only other person you’re allowed to dress for other than myself of course,” I say, lightly running my hand up and down her arm.
“Allowed?Since when have you had the authority toallowme to do anything?” she snaps.
“Since you’remine.”I notice how her breathing halts, her skin pebbles into goose bumps, and her pupils dilate.
Her mouth opens to no doubt protest my statement when Margot walks up behind us.
“And who isthislovely young lady?” She has a grin on her face that reaches from ear to ear.
She’s never actually seen me with a woman. I dated around in high school, but I never brought them home. And I sure as hell haven’t been with anyone longer than a night in the past decade.
“Margot,” I say in a tone that hopefully reminds her tobehave.“This is Sloane, she’s my—”
