Gabriella’s POV

The AC in my room isn't working. 

My palm is itchy and sweaty and it keeps messing up the perfect winged liner I was going for. I'm rushing through motions, part excited and part nervous. You'd think that the numerous times that I'd seen Kiley would make me comfortable in his presence but no. This was a dinner. This wasn't a normal Kiley's presence in my life, as my brother's best friend. This was a meeting between a man and a woman, hoping for more. Hopefully.

It takes over an hour of me fidgeting and cleaning off to start afresh to get my makeup on perfectly and I smile at how stunning I look. God bless your weak heart, Kiley. 

I part my hair down the center and pull everything back, leaving some tendrils to frame my face and neck and make a messy knot at my nape. My phone vibrates on my bed and I dash across the room, swiping the phone up and glancing at it, wishful praying that it's a text from Kiley. But my calendar notification pops up. I don't stay to see what exactly I'm being reminded of, if it's not Kiley, it's not my business. I throw my phone back on the bed and put myself in order.

It's to seven when I get a call from Kiley that he's outside the house and I hurry to put on my slinky black number. In a moment of weakness, I had splurged on this exquisite but expensive shift dress, waking up to later regret it when my bank wept. But now, I felt like I had never done anything so damn sensible. 

A dark red heeled sandal completes my look and I swing my strapped clutch over my head and walk out. I run back in when I remember that I hadn’t turned off the tap in the bathroom and my head swims with the possibility of a flood overtaking this house if I had left without remembering to turn it off. I run back outside and stop when I see Kiley.

He stands besides his Range Rover, his phone in his hand and his attention far away from me. Unbeknownst to him, there’s a saucily attractive young woman staring at him with want in her eyes and his phone is where he directs his attention to? I frown, is there not meant to be a strong pull towards the woman you invited to dinner?

My heels make deliberate clacks on the steps as I walk down and I try to act aloof, shooting him a glare when his eyes are still glued to his screen.

"Tell me that tonight would not go like this." He glances up then and the sharp intake of breath he can't disguise, is everything. 

Kiley's POV

I'm agitated. Christina keeps messaging me and blowing my phone with calls. The woman was starting to get on my nerves and it pained me to say that she'll soon be put to her place. 

Christina sends another message when the doors open. Knowing Gabriella, she's probably in Jeans and a sweater and I smile, glancing up when my phone vibrates and I look down again. God. Christina was pesky.

I'm shooting off an 'I'll-call-you-later' text when I hear the clack of her heels on the pavement. So she went with heels. I'm so tempted to look up and take her in but my eyes remain glued to my phone. They're probably scared about what my reaction might be. 

"Tell me that tonight would not go like this." Her voice washes over me and I'm about to make a not-so-nice comment when I finally glance up and freeze. 

Fuck! I was not prepared for this. Her dress is so shiny and sleek that it appears almost painted on her, stopping mid thigh. I force my mouth to close shut because whilst appreciating her beauty, I'm tempted to force her back upstairs to get a change of clothing. My eyes drift to the little thin threads holding the dress up. A flick of my fingers and her dress would slide down her body. I wipe the bitterness that accompanies that thought off my face and glare at her, taking in more details. Like the way her hair is pulled back but somehow, tendrils still frame her face, a few curls flirting with her shoulder blades and neck.

Her lips are the last thing that I take note of. They're painted an interesting shade of red, one so deep they match the color of my tie. I squint my eyes, how the fuck did she guess that?

"Get over yourself, asshole." She's walking around me, her fingers pulling on my tie and I flush. Somehow, she picked the thoughts out of my head. 

She pulls open the passenger door and I smirk. Trust Gabriella not to wait for a gentlemanly gesture from anyone. "Get in. Time's waiting." She's tapping the face of her watch as she says this and somehow her gaze doesn't find mine again. Instead she looks around my car, touching my shit and throwing the jacket I hadn't noticed on her over to the backseat. 

I round the car and step in, pulling out of her driveway in a minute. Once again, her hands don't stay calm. She's regulating the AC, changing stations on my radio, adjusting her seat belt and I desperately want to tie her hands to her sides. So she'll be motionless for a second. 

"Can I connect to your car's Bluetooth?" She's already taking out her phone from her black beaded clutch and turning her eyes to me, expecting my cooperation. I frown and shift gears, the motion throwing her against her seat and causing her dress to ride up a bit. God, I'm going to hell for this. 

"Hey! Careful." She's glaring at me, pulling the hem of her gown down and turning to her phone again. "Your Bluetooth, Kiley." She demands, placing her phone in front of my face. 

"What the hell?" I swipe her hand out of my way and her phone lands on the dashboard. "Are you trying to get us killed? I couldn't see over all your shit." I glance at her. 

If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under by now. "Just tell me that I can't connect. Stop being extremely rude about it." She stows her phone away and leans into her seat, her arms crossed and an impertinent pout on her lips. 

"If I didn't know the stuff you listened to, I'll apologize and ask you to connect. But sadly, Ariana is not at the top of my list. And it's my car, so no." I add when she starts to speak.

"And you're the king of all things tasteful in music? With your weird MJ addiction?" She guffaws loudly and it infuriates me, so much so that I press down on the accelerator a little bit too hard. 

"Michael is a god. He basically invented sensible music."

"Weirdo." She whispers to herself, staring out of the window and resting her head against the glass. 

I shake my head at her antics. Recently, she has been acting super weird. The stunt she pulled at my office tops the list and I still know that I had to make things clear to her, that this wasn't a date-date. I bet she wouldn't take it too kindly, going by how she killed her outfit for the dinner. I frown.

Clearing my throat, I glance over to her and see that she's already staring at me. She flushes and turns away, running her hand over her neck. For someone who spends her whole time throwing digs at me, she crushed pretty hard on me. 

"The dinner is a welcome home affair, Gabby." She turns sharply at that and I continue, "You remember Jones and that his autistic brother?" At her nod I go on, "They opened this restaurant three months ago and trust me, it's where everyone gets the best anything from."

"Such high praise from you? They must really be good." She checks her watch again and I'm tempted to ask her if she has any other engagements. This had to be the fifth time that she glanced at her watch in the space of ten minutes. 

"You've got somewhere to be?" 

She gives an awkward laugh. "If I did, I wouldn't be in this car with you. So relax." She checks her watch again and I smile then. It's her tell when she's nervous.