Page 16 of Unhitched

My grin returns, excitement bubbling inside me as I nod.

“Yours is easy. You can change in the front seat. I’ll change in the back.

No peeking,” I direct him as I unlock all my Jeep doors with the fob.

We swap bags, and instead of climbing in the passenger seat, Kace sets the bag on it.

He pulls the two pieces of clothing out, his face giving nothing away.

Then, right there, in the middle of the Goodwill parking lot, Kace Levitt pulls his plain white tee over his head, leaving him shirtless.

And suddenly, I’m left with no good thoughts and very little will to resist. This man is…

my mind is literally blank. No adjective or comparison will suffice in describing his chiseled abs alongside the rest of his toned and slightly tanned upper body.

It’s the first good glance I’ve gotten of his tattoos–a grayscale foggy forest running the length of the sleeve, a waterfall cascading down the side of his forearm and a mountain peak inked into his shoulder, bleeding into part of his chest. My eyes flick from muscle to muscle as they all work to reach for the shirt on the seat.

Slipping one arm into the sleeve of the button-up, he pauses mid-reach of his hand behind him to find the hole in the other.

“No peeking, Mya.” He smirks. That freaking smirk.

At least he’s upfront about not wanting to date anyone, but he’s also painfully aware that it couldn't possibly prevent anyone from looking.

I stare a beat longer, clearing the lust from my eyes before sliding into the back seat.

He probably thinks it’s shitty of me to be drawn to someone else so soon after a breakup, but you can’t help who you’re attracted to.

Even if I was in a serious relationship, it’s not like he would all of a sudden become ugly.

My curiosity switching focus, I pull a pile of teal fabric from Kace’s bag and break into a smile.

No. Freaking. Way. Layers of lace alternating between teal and blue make up the entire strapless Betsey Johnson dress, with a satin bow tied around the waist. A millennial packrat must have recently decided to let go of all her high school dance dresses because that’s exactly what this is, and I’m obsessed.

Hardly thinking twice about whether or not Kace can see through the windows, I awkwardly shimmy out of my jean shorts.

Sitting on the leather, I slide the dress up my legs, bouncing my butt off the seat to get it over my hips.

I undo my bra under my cropped hoodie, pulling the dress above my chest and hoping it’ll be tight enough to contain my boobs.

They aren’t super big, but they’re enough to love–C cups on a good day.

I’d rather have them smaller anyway, so I’m not tempted to duct tape them down like Christina Ricci in Now and Then .

With one arm across my boobs to keep the dress in place, I tug my bra and sweater off with the other. I attempt to reach around for the zipper, twisting my arm in a completely unnatural way. Just like when I give up trying to apply sunscreen to my back on my own, I sigh in defeat.

I poke my head through the gap between the front two seats to find him leaning against the door frame, facing away from me.

When he turns my way, I’m given a perfectly clear view of my real-life Seth Cohen, but with more edge and less curl in his hair.

I’m convinced his heart is the same though–he seems to mean well but puts on a front around certain people.

I hope he learns that there will be a girl who loves him when he’s himself, the way Summer fell for Seth.

But for the record, that was not the reasoning for this vulnerable date plan–the outfit is just a happy coincidence for this bet. “Kace?”

“Yeah?” he says the words before his gaze snaps to me, and he slides his phone into the front pocket of his jeans.

“Umm. Can you zip me up?”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Sure.”

Opening the door to the back seat, he waits as I scoot to the edge and kneel on the leather facing away from him.

Holding my dress up with both hands on my boobs, I wait for the tug of the zipper against my skin.

His hand braces against my waist at the edge of the zipper before the teeth of the metal lock together slowly.

I inhale instinctively, holding my breath for the simultaneous two seconds and eternity that it takes Kace to complete the task.

It’s not like I’m sucking in. It’s his touch that has me searching for my next breath.

I might be fresh out of a breakup, but something about his gentle tentativeness feels more intimate than any sex I’ve experienced in a while.

He pauses when the zipper reaches the top for a sliver of a moment before letting go. “Alright. You’re good.”

“Thanks.” I turn to him with a smile and hardly give him time to get out of my way before sliding from the seat onto the ground.

I run my hands over the front of the lace to flatten it out, although the layers make it naturally poofy.

I can’t even see myself yet, and I love it.

I shut the door, clearing a view in the side mirror to check myself out.

I grin, turning to Kace. “How do I look?”

He takes me in, his eyes raking up and down my body without giving away any emotion until they stop roaming, and a smirk sneaks in. “Like my high school prom date.”

I play slap him on the chest. “You got me an outfit that reminds you of your ex?! Please tell me you at least liked her.”

“My favorite of all my exes,” he teases, and I have zero clue if he’s serious.

“For real, though. What made you choose this?”

He shrugs, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and it takes everything in me not to get distracted by the way his pinstripe button-up clashes with the outdoorsy vest. “It’s kind of fun but also makes no fucking sense.”

I laugh. “And here I was thinking you don’t know me at all. That’s exactly what I go for.”

He shakes his head, amused. “Don’t read into it. It’s also bright and crazy and gives me a headache if I stare at it for too long.”

“Hey!” I put my hands on my hips, then shrug. “Whatever. I love it. I’m keeping it forever.”

“Of course you are,” he muses. “It’ll be useful for an art project one day, I’m sure.”

My grin widens. “Maybe you do know me, Kace Levitt.”

“It’s hard to miss the killer maze of crafts you’ve set as a trap in our apartment. ”

Our apartment. I know he didn’t mean it like that , but tell that to the butterflies in my stomach that just awakened from their long slumber. I shake my head, wishing it would shoo off the flutters in my gut as well. “Onto the next stop?”

“If we must,” Kace says as we get back into my car.