Page 51 of Time to Shine

Samir dashed over and began fussing with the suit, pulling it in the back so it tightened across Casey’s muscular chest and trim waist. “Oh, I think so,” Samir purred.

“What do you think, Stacks?”

Landon met Casey’s gaze in the mirror. “Good,” he said, even though the real word he wanted to use was dazzling. Casey was fucking dazzling in that ridiculous suit. Anyone else would look like a leprechaun, but Casey just looked...fun. Confident. Sexy.

“Why aren’t you trying on clothes?” Casey asked. “I want to see you in this sweater.” He crossed the room to where the rack of Landon clothes was and held out the sleeve of a light purple cashmere sweater.

“That sweater costs over two thousand dollars,” Landon said. Samir gave an unhappy sigh, as if acknowledging the price of things you were expected to buy was rude.

“Yeah, but trying it on is free,” Casey said. He removed the sweater from the rack and held it out.

Landon stood. “Fine.” He took the sweater and went behind the curtain of the second changing area. It only took a few seconds to remove his hoodie and slip the sweater on over his T-shirt. God, it was so soft. He indulged for a moment, running his hand down his chest and stomach, as if the sweater needed to be straightened out. It didn’t. It fit him perfectly, clinging to his muscles slightly, and hanging a bit loose around his waist, an area he was always self-conscious about because he was so skinny. He’d never even considered wearing this color before, but it was...nice. Flattering, maybe.

He stepped out from behind the curtain.

“So it fits I guess,” he said.

“Holy shit,” Casey said as he walked toward Landon. “Like, holy shit. Right, Samir?”

“It’s a gorgeous sweater,” Samir said, clearly trying to avoid complimenting Landon the cheapskate. “I have one myself.”

“Stacks, buddy. You look so fucking good.” He hovered his hand over Landon’s chest, then pulled it away when he seemed to realize what he was doing. “Is it soft? It’s soft, right?”

Landon bit the inside of his cheek, then held out one arm in invitation. “It’s soft.”

Casey rested his palm on Landon’s forearm and everything just kind of...stopped. The touch wasn’t anything—he was feeling the sweater, not Landon—but Landon seemed to forget how to breathe anyway. Casey’s fingers drifted up to Landon’s inner elbow and Landon had to fight to keep his eyes from fluttering closed.

It felt so nice.

“Soft,” Casey said quietly.

“Yeah.”

Casey pulled his hand away, and was he blushing a little? He glanced at the floor for a moment, and then back at Landon, and his little smile looked almost...shy.

“You look really good,” Casey said.

And that was when Landon decided to spend way too much money on a sweater.

“I’m already doubting my mom’s gift, Stacks.”

Landon swallowed his mouthful of burger and said, “Why? You said she actually asked for it.”

He had not understood the appeal of the absurdly expensive designer yoga bag Casey had bought her, but he didn’t understand much about anything he’d experienced that day. Including the twenty-five hundred fucking dollars he’d personally shelled out for a single sweater.

Or the way he’d wanted Casey to run his fingers over Landon’s sleeve forever. Or maybe even under the cuff, caressing the sensitive skin on the inside of his wrist.

It was a weird thing to be hot and bothered about, but here he was.

“You’re right,” Casey said. “She’ll love it.” He cheerfully popped a french fry into his mouth, problem solved.

“Are you going to bring the green suit to Vegas?” Landon asked.

“Nah. It needs to be tailored. I’d like to debut it at home.”

Landon huffed. “Debut.”

“What? I’m famous for my impeccable fashion, dude. Check the best-dressed lists.”

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