Page 76 of Study Buddies

“When’s the right time?” It felt like he was stalling.

“Sunday night.”

My pulse quickened. “Sunday? Why Sunday?”

“Because the thing I want to take you to is happening this Sunday.”

That seemed strange, and I couldn’t quite figure out if he was serious or not. But I kind of preferred the narrative that he’d been waiting for the right time over a scenario in which he’d forgotten. “What happens on Sunday night?”

“Magic, Victoria. I’m going to rock your world. Make you see stars. Make you scream my name.”

All of that would have been hot—and indeed, my heart rate sped up—if he hadn’t said it all so flippantly.

“So you say.” It was an effort to keep my voice steady. “Where exactly are you going to do this?”

“In my bed, or up against the wall, or?—”

“Kyle.”

He grinned. “When you say my name in that no-nonsense tone, I can totally see you as a future high school English teacher.”

I looked away, but I was smiling. Even though he was teasing, I still liked hearing it. So many people took one look at me and assumed I was too small or delicate to teach high school.

A hand stroked my hair, and I leaned into his touch for a moment.

His voice was rumbly. “Okay, I’ll stop teasing. Here’s the deal. I’m taking you to sort of a… well, like a pop-up restaurant. Or at least one that’s not there all the time. But it is this weekend, for one night only, and I’d like for you to go with me.”

“What kind of place is it?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

What? “Why not?”

“It’s a secret.”

I blew out a huff of air, trying to make sense of that. “Is it fancy?”

“Yes. Very.”

“How fancy? Would the dress I wore the other night look out of place?”

He hesitated, which was an answer in and of itself. “It’s pretty damn fancy.”

“You said that already.”

“I can’t tell you all the details, but how about I tell you what I’m planning to wear?”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to wear a fitted black suit. Black shirt. Black shoes. And when you see me, you’re going to think you’re the luckiest girl in the world.”

“Because you’re wearing all black?” I scoffed. “So does Batman or Zorro.”

“Yes, I am like a superhero. But I don’t think you’re quite getting the full visual. A black suit so fitted that it’ll highlight every muscle on my body—especially the ones you drool over when you see me without my shirt. The jacket will sit snug on my shoulders—none of that baggy crap. It’s going to fit like a glove… and it’s going to lookgood.” He drew that last word out as I caught my breath. “So good that you’ll have to turn away out of fear you might come right then and there.”

I couldn’t look at him, but I knew he was smirking. He was clearly enjoying trying to get me riled up—and it was working. “You still haven’t told me when and where.” My voice was hoarse.

“I can’t tell you where. But I can tell you when—at nine.”

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