Chapter 8

T hank God the first week of school was over and it was now Saturday. I had a lazy day planned. After a few stress-filled days, I desperately wanted to sleep in. Then I had a bit of laundry to do. For the past few days, I’d planned on cleaning up the place a bit and I’d been putting it off. Today was the day. And if I had time, I’d wash my hair. I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on some comfy Armani yoga shorts and threw on a Ralph Lauren tank top, not yet bothering with the discomfort of a bra.

As I tried to get my hair into a loose and messy bun, a knock sounded at the door.

“Just a second,” I called out as I headed to the door, my hands still busily trying to tie my hair back.

I reached the door and abandoned my hair to open it.

“Yes... um... ah.” Words choked me as I faced Kobe, all dressed up and ready to take on the world.

Wide awake and alert despite the early hour, he wore a nice casual grey suit and his hair was properly combed. Strangely, however, his gaze went from stern to suddenly befuddled. The hard and sharp look in his eyes quickly changed to one of uncomfortable interest as his gaze dipped down to my braless breasts behind the nearly sheer fabric of my tank top.

“Um... I wasn’t expecting...it’s so early... um...” I stammered.

“Uh...yeah...um...” He dropped his gaze to my furry slippers. “Nice cat slippers. Nice.”

“What are you doing here... I mean in my dorm?”

Damn, he looked good. And the sudden flush of pink on his cheeks as he tried to avoid looking directly at me only made him all the more appealing. He looked like a true gentlemen... a damned handsome gentleman.

His gaze darted from my slippers to my hips to my breasts to my lips and down to my crotch.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath.

He suddenly shook his head as if to clear it, rolled his shoulders back as if to regain his composure and then looked straight at me.

Well, well, well. After that arousing moment of discomfort, bully Kobe was back.

Shit.

“Get ready,” he ordered. “We have work to do.”

“Work? What? What are you talking about?”

“Our little project, remember? The restaurant.”

“But I thought we were starting that tomorrow.”

“Not much of an early bird, are you?” he shot back.

Frowning, I set my fists on my hips and looked up at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that the early bird catches the worm... and I want that worm. The quicker we get started; the bigger head start we’ll have over the others.”

I shook my head. “Honestly, Kobe. I don’t think that using worms as motivation is a good way to get started on this project,” I said with an amused chuckle.

“Funny.” He waved me into the room. “Go get dressed. And do something professionally pretty with your hair.”

“No, Kobe. Mr. Singh said we could start tomorrow.”

“Look,” he said as he took an authoritative step inside. “These classes aren’t like what you’re used to. When there are teams, they are usually measured by one another. In other words, we are competing. So, the team that comes in later with their project, gets the worse grades.”

Still frowning, I stared at him.

“Don’t you see? We need to get our project done first and do it better than the other group working in the Napa restaurant in order to get the best grades in class. So, for the last time... go get dressed. I want to see you looking like a professional. We are going to go to the restaurant this morning and make a good... no, a great first impression.”

Wanting to argue with him, I hesitated. I hated the thought of starting this project with him bossing me around. That’s not the way I wanted to go forward with this. We were equals... then again. Maybe he was right. Maybe getting an extra day to work on the project would give us an edge.

“Kat, I will not let you be the weakest link in this chain. If you drop the ball, we both fail.”

“Gee, Kobe. Are you sure you can’t fit another idiom or cliché into your argument? Early bird. Weak link. Drop the ball. I get it. I get it. We need each other to do well on this thing. Fine. Wait out in the hall and I’ll go get ready.”

“I’ll wait right here,” he said heading to the loveseat.

“Hang on,” I said as I looked around. “I don’t live alone here, you know. My roommate might not like the idea of having a strange guy hanging out in her dorm room. She could get up any minute now and scream when she sees you there.”

“A little heavy on the melodrama, aren’t you?” He looked around, making an exaggerated attempt to find her. “I don’t see anyone. Seems as if you’re here alone.”

Pressing my lips in frustration, I went to her door and looked into her room to find that Layla had already left.

“Fine.” I shot at Kobe. “Sit down. But don’t touch anything.”

He glared up at me as he sat down. “What are you going to wear?” He called out after me as I headed into my room.

I was about to tell him but realized that I didn’t have to. Surely, he didn’t expect me to get his approval on my attire. I knew perfectly well how to dress for a professional meeting. I ignored the question and entered my closet.

“Kat, what are you going to wear?”

Only this time his voice didn’t travel from the living area sofa to my room but came from right there in my doorway.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I said as I peered out from my closet.

Unperturbed by my question, he marched over to my closet. “Well, you won’t answer me. I want to know what you intend on wearing.”

“Kobe!Get out!”

He flicked one hanger after another. “Nice Prada, but all wrong. A tasteful St. Laurent, but... no. It’s not right for this morning. McCartney, cool, but not for this. As a matter of fact, I think you should avoid designer labels altogether.”

He looked at a charcoal gray sweater dress. “This is too stodgy.” He went on to a brown skirt and jacket. “This is too matronly. I don’t even understand why you have this in your closet to begin with.” And finally, he pulled out a bright yellow micro mini dress that, while it fit me very snugly, it essentially looked like a narrow tube on the hanger. “This is too... hell... I don’t even know what to make of this. What the hell is this?”

I ripped the hanger out of his hand. “It’s to go clubbing, if you must know. And, since you’ve barged all the way into my closet, I may as well tell you that I was planning on wearing this black Armani midi dress with the three-quarter sleeves and slit neckline. I’ll pair it with sensible two-inch slingbacks, and a simple yet classic pearl necklace.”

He looked at me. Appraising? Approving?

Appalled?

We argued about the midi dress, and he finally put his foot down.

“I think a dark pantsuit would be more suitable.”

“Oh?” I said, silently agreeing with him. But, again, I hated the thought of letting him think he could so easily boss me around. “Well, I happen to think the midi dress is feminine and professional.”

“A pantsuit would be better.”

“What the hell do you know about women’s fashion, Kobe?” I looked at him with contempt. “Hell, you barely know enough about men’s fashion to dress properly yourself.”

He smirked and clasped the lapel of his suit jacket. “Nice try, but I happen to know that I have great fashion sense.” The smirk disappeared and he leaned in with a frown. “Now put on the pantsuit.”

“No.”

He reached into my closet and grabbed a pant and jacket ensemble. “This. Put this on.”

“Kobe!No.”

“Yes.”

“Go to hell!”

His nostrils flared as he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me up against the wall. His breath came hot and hard against my skin as he huffed with rage... or something else.

Say something, I thought as we just stood there.

He pressed closer, his chest crushing my braless breasts. His breathing became more and more labored as his jaw went slack.

It was suddenly stiflingly hot in the huge closet. I swallowed the hunger that took over me and fought to keep from putting my arms around him. He smelled so good. And he felt so good, hard and big against me.

Yes, he was hard.

He licked his lips as his eyes devoured me.

He’s going to kiss me. Oh, my God. He’s going to kiss me.

I licked my lips in anticipation.

Oh, come on, Kobe. Let’s put all this bullying nonsense behind us and let’s get along. Let’s be friends. Let’s be more than friends. Let’s skip that and just fuck.

No, I thought, steeling myself. Don’t let him have the last laugh. Don’t let him play you like this. If he realizes that you want him, he’ll use it against you.

Putting aside my attraction to him and the unexpected arousal that had me going weak, I pushed him off me.

“Okay, fine,” I said. “Get out of here and I’ll put on the pantsuit.”

His eyes widened with momentary surprise. Aha, he didn’t think I had it in me to push him away like that.

Well, make that one point for me.

He quickly got a hold of himself and slapped that arrogant smirk back on, a smirk that bordered on disgust.

“Make it quick,” he snapped as he walked out.

With an indignant huff, I stepped out of my yoga shorts and pulled on the streamline pants; snug on the butt, narrow at the calf, hemmed just above the ankle. I opened a lingerie drawer and pulled out the prettiest white bra I had; delicate, soft lace that didn’t leave any lumps or bumps through the thin fabric of my white button-down shirt. I left the three top buttons unbuttoned and popped the collar wide to give me a professional yet appealing neckline. I shrugged on the jacket and slipped my feet into plain black two-inch leather pumps.

Leaving the closet, I headed to the dresser that had a nice tall mirror. I combed out my hair and pulled it back into a clean and tight chignon. The final touches; a light brush of mascara, a touch of eye shadow, a hint of blush and a swipe of classic red lipstick.

“There,” I said to my very professional looking reflection. “Try to find fault with that, Kobe. I look perfect.”

I shoved a few things – car keys, identification, lipstick – into my small Prada handbag and headed out.

“Ready to go,” I said, happy I’d caught myself before asking for his opinion.

“Hang on,” he said. “Let’s take a good look at you.” Grabbing my shoulders, he forced me to spin around for him. “The suit is perfect. Fits nice. Crisp white shirt. I think you should button up, however.”

“No,” I said.

“You’re not going to impress them with your body, Kat. You want to impress them with your mind.”

“Spare me the ‘don’t use sex to get what you want’ argument. You know damned well that I’m not showing too much skin... no cleavage.”

“Fine.” He looked down at my feet. “I guess you know better than I do if you can stay on your feet in those shoes or not.”

“That’s right. Now let’s get going.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute.” He grabbed my chin, tilted my face up and inspected my make-up. “No. No. That’s all wrong.” He reached out for a tissue and proceeded to clumsily wipe the blush and eyeshadow off.

“Kobe,” I said, pushing his hand away. “What are you doing? You’re just going to smear everything around.”

“Don’t worry. I’m just taking the shine down a notch. You’ll still look prett... um... okay.”

I hid a smile. Did he almost say that I looked pretty?

“And this lipstick,” he went on as he brought the tissue to my lips. “Too dark. Wrong shade of red.”

His eyes suddenly glazed over, much as they had when he’d pressed me up against the wall. He slowly wiped the lipstick off, mesmerized by my pouting lips.

The tissue left my lips feeling dry and I unwittingly licked them to bring some moisture back. Kobe stopped wiping and held his breath for a moment.

“You’re a spoiled little princess, you know that? A spoiled little brat who needs a spanking,” he said deeply, as he suddenly tossed the tissue aside and backed away.

My gosh, his voice had lowered, and his eyes hooded so sexily, I gulped.

Then he said, “This isn’t a debutant ball. This is work. Real work.” All business, just like that.

He turned to march into the bathroom.

“Where are you going?”

“A tissue isn’t enough. Don’t you have any of those make-up removers?”

“You sound like you know something about make up,” I said. “I didn’t know you were an expert.”

“I picked up a few things here and there from the girls I know,” he said.

Really? Kobe apparently had gotten over his shyness with girls since camp.

“Oh,” I said, hoping not to sound interested. “And what does your girlfriends think about you having to spend so much time with me on this school project?”

He smiled. A beautiful wide smile that showed his white teeth and his sparkly blue eyes. They were like diamonds that brightened up his entire face. “Oh, it doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m not dating anyone seriously or that I know of.”

I was surprised. Yes, since every girl on campus were obsessed with the Kings boys. Axel and Kobe. Just from the first couple of days I’ve been at school, I couldn’t help how the girls gush over them.

He found my wipes and came back to me. “Let’s get you really cleaned up.” He grabbed my face in a rough grip and scoured my face.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I backed up.

“I told you to tone down the make-up.”

“Fine. Then let me do it.”

But he continued to rub my face with the wipe.

I pulled back and slapped him. “Snap out of it, damn it! What the hell are you doing?”

He took a startled step back, raked his fingers through his hair then quickly stepped forward again, leaning in until his lips were on mine. My lips parted to receive him, ready to give into the mad heat between us.

If we didn’t do something, we’d end up in bed.

He thought the same thing as he suddenly pulled away and straightened his suit.

“Come on. We’d better get going.”

Breathless, I stared at him a moment.

Composure, girl. Find your composure and hang onto it for dear life.