Wardrobe Malfunction

I look good. I feel good.

I push my shoulder back, take a deep breath, fix a smile on my face, and knock on the door.

You can do this, Charly. Yesterday was yesterday. Today is a new day.

I hear footsteps approaching the door, and it swings open, revealing someone who’s not Vaughn.

Oh.

Oddly, I feel a flash of disappointment. I wanted to make an impression. A good impression.

The guy looks to be around my age or a little older. With close-cropped brown hair, he has on a pair of black-framed glasses, and he’s wearing jeans, a navy-blue shirt, and a pair of Vans.

“Hi.” I smile wide. “I’m Charly. I’m here to fit Mr. West—I mean, do a fitting for Mr. West. I’m from the studio. I work in wardrobe. I’m a wardrobe assistant.”

For fuck’s sake, Charly.

I do a mental eye roll at myself.

He smiles. “Hey, Charly. I’m Alex. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Oh, it’s Alex. Duh.

“Good to meet you, too, after speaking to you twice on the phone.” I laugh lightly.

“Here, let me help you.”

He gestures to the garment bag, so I hand it to him. He seems nice. Much nicer than his boss.

“Come in,” he says.

I walk past him and into Vaughn’s suite. Then, I hang near the door before following him over to the dining table on the other side of the room—where I gave Vaughn his cock warmer last night.

Dear God.

“Did you get a cab over with this stuff?” Alex asks, putting the clothes down on the dining table.

“I did.” I put my sewing kit and handbag next to the clothes on the table.

“How much was it?”

“Oh, like ten bucks.”

He gets his wallet from his pocket and pulls up a ten-dollar bill.

“No, it’s fine.” I wave him off. “It’s my fault I had to come over here to finish the fit.”

“You sure?” He checks before putting the bill away.

“I’m sure.” I smile.

“Well, I’ll have Vaughn’s driver take you home when you’re done. No need to get a cab back.”

Speaking of Vaughn…

I glance around for him.

“Vaughn’s just in the shower. He’ll be out in a few. Can I get you a drink?”

“A water would be great. Thanks.”

He goes over to a mini fridge and gets out a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” I say when he hands it to me. “So, was Mr. West okay about me coming to do the fitting?”

“Depends. You’re not armed, are you?”

I swivel at the sound of Vaughn’s voice behind me.

He’s standing in the doorway of what I’m guessing is the bedroom. His hair is wet from the shower. He’s wearing black trackpants and a fitted tank. He looks amazing.

Turns out, my attraction for him is still there—pin in ball sack aside.

He walks toward me. Eyes set on mine. My heart stutters.

He stops a foot away. “We need to stop meeting like this, Pins.” His voice is low, throaty. It does funny things to me. “People will start talking.”

“Hello, Mr. West. And please don’t call me that.”

“Vaughn. And don’t call you what?”

“Pins.”

“Why not? I think it’s cute. And apt. Don’t you, Alex?” His head tips to the side as he casts a glance at Alex.

“Leave me out of this.” Alex chuckles from behind me.

Vaughn’s eyes come back to mine, and a smile graces his lips.

Damn, he looks good when he smiles.

“It’s not apt. It’s…insulting,” I state calmly. “And a little annoying.”

“It annoys you? Oh. Well then, of course, I’ll stop calling you it.”

“Thank you,” I exhale, relieved.

“No problem, Pins.”

Argh!

Deep breaths, Charly. He’s just doing it to wind you up. Don’t react.

“Right. I’m heading to my room—unless you need me to stay?”

I sense Alex move, but I can’t see what he’s doing because Vaughn and I are currently locked in a staring battle.

“Nah, you’re good to go,” Vaughn answers him, eyes still on me.

Don’t blink, Charly.

“Unless Pins plans on giving me another injury. Then, I might need you to stay. I know how lethal she can be. I have the hole in my ball to prove it.”

And I blink.

Mother-trucker!

He smiles a winning smile.

The hot jerk.

I grit my teeth and breathe out through my nose. Then, I fix a sickly sweet smile on my face. “I wasn’t planning on puncturing any more of your tiny body parts. But the night’s still young, so…maybe.” I lift my shoulder, causing my sweater to slip a little further. I see his eyes go to it and then back to my eyes.

“Tiny? Ha! You crack me up. Oh, and, Pins, the cock warmer you made me—extra-large, you said? Yeah, it doesn’t fit.”

“Too big?”

“Funny. Too small. Way too small.”

“I think I should stay,” Alex says. “You two might need a referee.”

“We’ll be fine.” I give Alex my most professional smile.

“Yeah, Pins and I will be just fine,” Vaughn states.

God, he’s an annoying, gorgeous bastard. How can I want to kiss his face off and smack him on it at the same time?