Harper

The dark green silk of the dress I’d found earlier today ran through my fingers like water.

I’d spent all morning hitting different shops around the city in search of the perfect dress for tonight’s gala with Jamil and I’d nearly given up until I’d spotted it in a boutique window on my way back to my apartment.

Giving it one more shot before I lost all hope and resorted to panicking, I’d walked in the store only to find the final dress they had in stock was the one on the mannequin and it just so happened to be in my size.

I’d called the boutique owner my fairy godmother before rushing back home to get ready.

Now, freshly showered and standing in my robe, I trailed my fingers over the material of the dress.

When Jamil had asked me to go to this event with him, it had felt different than the few dates we’d been on or the cookout he’d thrown for me at his house.

It was sitting in the grey area between friends and something more.

As I shaved my entire body in the shower, I thought about how this outing wasn’t going to be just us or only with our friends. We would be walking into an event together full of the city’s wealthier residents that lived off trading information. This felt more serious.

Why wasn’t I scared about that?

Normally I would have come up with some valid excuse at this point as to why whatever was going on between me and Jamil wasn’t worth it. Lord knew there were plenty of reasons if I just looked hard enough.

It was completely possible that my brain was running me astray, failing me when I needed it most, and I’d find myself destroyed at the end of all of this.

Jamil had found his way into nearly every part of my day—between waking up to a text from him first thing in the morning, to focusing on his performance while covering games, to wondering if we would be hanging out afterward.

I should be running for the hills right now. Or putting up boundaries that pushed him away. But instead, I was slipping a dress over my head and working to get the back zipped up by myself, fully committing to a night of being Jamil Edman’s date.

I took my time curling my hair and applying my makeup.

Being on camera, glam was a part of my job.

Tonight, I didn’t want to look like Harper Nelson, the field reporter.

I used a deep maroon lipstick that I rarely wore.

The color paired well with the deep green of the dress.

After I applied the last swipe of color to my lips, I took a moment to look at myself in the mirror.

The woman staring back at me was unfamiliar.

She looked luxurious and sultry. The dark eyeshadow I went with accentuated my golden-brown eyes and made them look larger than normal.

A buzz echoed through my apartment and I cursed, realizing that Jamil was already here.

I hurried out of my room to buzz him in.

“Come on up! I’m almost done. I’ll unlock the front door for you,” I said into the speaker before hurrying back into my room to put on jewelry and find a pair of shoes that would go with my dress.

“Harper?” I heard Jamil call from my front door as I failed at putting on the bracelet I wanted to wear tonight for the third time.

“In here!”

I wasn’t prepared for what I would see the moment he rounded the corner into my room.

Jamil in a black tuxedo with a bowtie nearly stole the breath out of my lungs.

The tux was perfectly tailored to his lean frame, showcasing his long legs and broad shoulders.

His hands were shoved in his pockets and the glint of a silver watch popped on his wrist. Those curls I loved burying my fingers in were styled and it even appeared like he’d gotten a fresh haircut for tonight.

He looked like he belonged on a red carpet with his elegance and refinement.

Both of our faces were probably mirror images of each other’s—mouths agape, eyes wide.

Jamil took his hands out of his pockets and gestured at my dress, his mouth working to form the words to describe what he was seeing. “You look .?.?. Wow. I’m not sure my vocabulary is wide enough to find a word to describe just how beautiful you look.”

“You’re a professional flirt,” I joked.

“A professional?” Jamil scoffed. “I feel like an utter amateur when it comes to you.”

Heat burned in my cheeks as I dropped my eyes from his. The bracelet I was trying to clasp was still dangling in my fingers. “Do you mind helping me put this on? I still haven’t mastered the art of putting on a bracelet with only one hand.”

His throat bobbed up and down before he closed the last few steps between us.

I was enveloped by the cologne he was wearing.

It reminded me of a summer night around a campfire—warm and cozy.

Jamil carefully took the clasps of my bracelet from my fingers before gingerly hooking them together and dropping the chain around my wrist.

“There,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Final touch.”

His fingers wrapped around my wrist, his thumb moving back and forth over my pulse point. If I thought his cologne was nearly overwhelming, his thumb was making me forget that we were due to leave, or we’d be late to the gala.

“Thank you.” I tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear as a wave of nerves washed over me. We were like two high school kids about to go to prom, pretending to be grownups for one night.

“We should get going or we’ll be late,” Jamil said, but didn’t make a move out of my room. His tall, lanky build was still taking up the entirety of the frame.

“We should.” Our bodies drifted closer together, neither of us making a move toward the door.

“We’ll be late,” Jamil repeated. His lips were mere inches away as he curved his body around mine.

“You wouldn’t hear the end of it from Tommy.”

He scoffed. “Screw Tommy. He’ll get over it.”

“What about the kids?” I gasped, trapped in the depths of his eyes.

“I’ll toss in a signed helmet for good measure. They’d understand, too, if they had a woman as beautiful as you standing in front of them.”

Jamil’s hands slid underneath the curtain of my hair as he gently gripped the nape of my neck. “Because it would be a shame if I didn’t get to kiss you senseless before we walked into this gala together tonight.”

“A complete shame,” I whispered, my heart in my throat as I waited for him to close the distance.

The second our lips touched; Jamil went fucking wild.

His teeth grabbed hold of my bottom lip and his tongue ran over mine.

His hands fisted in my hair, and I knew we were really going to be late.

Jamil’s body pressed against mine, every hard plane of his taut torso forming to my soft curves.

His hands slipped down my back, following the curve of my spine before they pressed into my waist. He walked me backward until my back hit the edge of my dresser, so my body was pressed between it and him.

Everywhere Jamil touched felt like a wildfire, his hands setting off a blaze inside of me that scorched everything in its path.

How does this man know how to kiss so well?

Every time we found ourselves in this very position, it was like I was holding on for dear life. Jamil had a way of devouring everything—my insecurities, my hesitation, my worries about my job. All of it disappeared the moment his lips touched mine and with every swipe of his tongue.

I heard something crash and then I was being lifted onto the top of the dresser, my dress riding far enough up my legs so Jamil could step between them.

My hands wanted to yank at the bowtie on his neck to pull him closer, if that were even possible, but I resisted if only to spare us the few minutes we’d need to get out of here.

“We’re really going to be late,” I mumbled against his lips as he kissed each corner of my mouth.

“I really don’t care right now,” Jamil whispered against my skin.

With a sigh of regret, I pressed my hands against Jamil’s chest to push him back. I hoped a few feet of space would allow enough oxygen to both of our brains so we could start thinking clearly again.

“We should go.”

Jamil’s eyes were hooded as he stepped back from me, his lips stained the color of red wine from my lipstick.

He was the picture of seduction, and I would have given anything to pull him into bed and shut out the world around us, but that would mean missing out on a chance to be seen on his arm.

I hadn’t realized how excited I was to spend an evening like this with him until we were faced with potentially skipping it altogether.

“You may have to reapply your .?.?.” Jamil trailed off as he motioned at his own lips.

I laughed as I glanced at myself in the mirror behind me. Nearly all my lipstick was wiped off, with the barest red still coloring my lips. “Looks like we exchanged makeup.”

Jamil looked at himself in the mirror over my shoulder and let out a curse.

“Here,” I slid off the dresser and walked over to a basket of towels to offer him one.

His eyes ran all over me—my hair, my face, my dress—a wry smile breaking out at what he saw. “No one will question if you’re really with me or not.”

“And that’s something we want?”

Jamil finished wiping the lipstick off his face before he turned to look at me. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Instead of acknowledging that I wanted to be seen on Jamil’s arm, I turned back to my dresser and picked up my hairbrush. “Let me reapply my lipstick and brush my hair. I’ll be right out.”

Jamil reached for me before shoving his hands in his pockets, like that would keep them from caressing me once more.

“I’ll wait out in the living room.” He gave me one more long look, like he was trying to commit this moment to memory, before he disappeared around the corner. But not before throwing me a wink.

Dear God, please let me make it through this night without climbing Jamil Edman like a tree in front of everyone.

*

“All ready,” I announced as I entered the living room with brushed hair, a fresh layer of lipstick, and my clutch.

With a flourish, Jamil offered me his hand as he slightly bowed at the waist. “It would be my honor to take you as my date tonight.”

“Are you flirting with me, Jamil?” I teased as I let him slip my arm through his.

“Since the moment I saw you again, Harper.” Jamil laughed at the stunned look on my face and took advantage by placing a quick kiss on my lips. “I’m glad you’re finally starting to catch on.”

Dear God, I thought I asked you to help me make it through the night?