Page 96 of Torrid Passion
“How can I help you, ladies?” he asks, his eyes bouncing from one excited face to the other.
A few girls grin from ear to ear.
A few giggle like schoolgirls.
Freaking charmer.
“Did I see you walk the red carpet with Miss America?” the girl in the lilac dress asks.
Is she talking about his mom?
“She’s blonde like me and I aspire to be her when I grow up,” a girl wearing a cobalt blue dress says. “I want to bring the Miss Universe crown back to the US of A,” she places her hand against her heart in a solemn gesture.
Wait. What?
He’s here with someone?
As in Miss America?
And he was hard when I stepped back?
Pervert.
“Well, yes, that was me,” he says.
Why is he hesitating? It’s a pretty simple question.
“I can’t believe it’s you,” the blonde says, clasping her hands together underneath her chin and batting her long eyelashes at him. You’d think she was praying to a higher power.
“In the flesh,” Loki winks.
“It’s him, you guys!” the blonde says turning to her friends.
What happens next is straight out of a cheesy girly movie.
The five teenagers hold hands and start jumping up and down. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!”
The outburst causes a few guests surrounding us to look over. Luckily, most are too enthralled in their conversations to care.
“That’s what we thought,” a redhead wearing a short champagne dress says between giggles.
“Miss America is our idol,” the blonde says. The poor kid gleams with excitement. “She’s sooooooo pretty. And sooooooo smart. And sooooooo amazing.”
“I see,” Loki says.
“Can you ask your girlfriend for an autograph?” the redhead asks.
“She’s—”
“You’re dating Miss America?!” Mom interrupts Loki.
“You’re dating Denise Pemberand?” Dad asks.
“No, not the reigning Miss America, theformerMiss America,” a tall brunette wearing a yellow dress corrects.
“Wow, Bliss Buttercup is your girlfriend?” Dad seems shocked.
Not nearly as much as I am.
