and smoothing it across his chest with her hands. Gemma swallowed, feeling the muscular ridges of his torso underneath her fingertips. Oh my God, Gemma. Relax.
“Because he kind of seems like the type to take his mom.”
Gemma looked up to see Damian’s eyes on the ceiling, suppressing a smirk. She laughed, thankful to be broken out of her own thoughts. “To be fair, Damian,” she replied. “ You also seem like the type to take your mom.”
“You’re right, but she’s hosting her book club that night,” he said with a smile. Gemma returned it, lowering the measuring tape to his waist.
“So… who are you taking then?” Gemma focused on tightening the measuring tape, keeping her face down and her intentions unclear. She wanted to sound casual, but in the last fifteen minutes, had suddenly become invested in what the answer would be.
“Azura,” Damian replied, quickly. Gemma felt a surprising jump in her stomach. Are you two actually together? The question pulled at her tongue, but she kept it to herself.
“I’m almost done,” Gemma said instead. She held the tape around his waist, scribbling down the number before kneeling in front of him. “But I’m going to need you to help me with the last part.”
“Oh,” Damian said, looking down at her with a shy smile. She returned it, feeling the heat in her cheeks dissipate just slightly knowing that he suddenly shared the awkwardness she was feeling. He held out a hand, taking one end of the tape and pulling it up towards himself. “What do I do?”
“You just, um,” Gemma cleared her throat, pointing up his pant leg. “Hold it right to the end of the inseam. Like, where your legs meet.”
“Where my legs meet,” Damian repeated, laughing. Gemma blushed furiously, averting her eyes as she pulled the measuring tape down to his ankle, taking his measurement.
“Have you given any thought of what look you’d like to wear?” Gemma asked, trying to distract herself from the fact that she’d just refused to say the word groin to Damian, as if they hadn’t once dated and come very close to sleeping with each other. God, Gemma. She could hear her own short breaths roaring in her chest, trying to drown out the electric hum of her heart. There is no way you don’t look like a total weirdo right now. “Like, fabrics, colors – anything in particular in mind?” She marked his inseam on her note, writing his name across the top. Damian Evans. Damian held his hand out to help her to her feet.
“Not really,” he replied. “I trust you to find what looks best on me.”
Gemma nodded as she rolled up her measuring tape. Convincing herself that it was for completely professional purposes, she allowed herself one more full-body look at her old friend. Totally unprofessional, she chided herself as she felt her mind wandering. Rather than trying to brainstorm a look for his Gotham Ball suit, she was imagining what he looked like under his thin t-shirt and jeans. Gemma had seen him naked before but that had been ages ago. With so many years of pro basketball under his belt, he had to look different now. She couldn’t help wondering how different.
“So we’re all good?” Damian asked, a smile in his voice as he watched her put her tools away.
“We’re all good,” Gemma replied, turning away from him to hide her furiously burning cheeks. She didn’t remember blushing this hard around Damian ever before.
This might be an issue.
~
“So, I’m a perv.”
Gemma watched as Leah and Kate looked up slowly from their plates, carefully exchanging a glance between them. She had let the words tumble from her mouth during a particularly quiet moment at the brunch table. Gemma hadn’t touched her Florentine once as she listened to Leah talk about her job search and Kate about her budding romance with Mitchell. Instead, she opted to sip slowly on her Bellini, taking in the beautiful garden
“Because he kind of seems like the type to take his mom.”
Gemma looked up to see Damian’s eyes on the ceiling, suppressing a smirk. She laughed, thankful to be broken out of her own thoughts. “To be fair, Damian,” she replied. “ You also seem like the type to take your mom.”
“You’re right, but she’s hosting her book club that night,” he said with a smile. Gemma returned it, lowering the measuring tape to his waist.
“So… who are you taking then?” Gemma focused on tightening the measuring tape, keeping her face down and her intentions unclear. She wanted to sound casual, but in the last fifteen minutes, had suddenly become invested in what the answer would be.
“Azura,” Damian replied, quickly. Gemma felt a surprising jump in her stomach. Are you two actually together? The question pulled at her tongue, but she kept it to herself.
“I’m almost done,” Gemma said instead. She held the tape around his waist, scribbling down the number before kneeling in front of him. “But I’m going to need you to help me with the last part.”
“Oh,” Damian said, looking down at her with a shy smile. She returned it, feeling the heat in her cheeks dissipate just slightly knowing that he suddenly shared the awkwardness she was feeling. He held out a hand, taking one end of the tape and pulling it up towards himself. “What do I do?”
“You just, um,” Gemma cleared her throat, pointing up his pant leg. “Hold it right to the end of the inseam. Like, where your legs meet.”
“Where my legs meet,” Damian repeated, laughing. Gemma blushed furiously, averting her eyes as she pulled the measuring tape down to his ankle, taking his measurement.
“Have you given any thought of what look you’d like to wear?” Gemma asked, trying to distract herself from the fact that she’d just refused to say the word groin to Damian, as if they hadn’t once dated and come very close to sleeping with each other. God, Gemma. She could hear her own short breaths roaring in her chest, trying to drown out the electric hum of her heart. There is no way you don’t look like a total weirdo right now. “Like, fabrics, colors – anything in particular in mind?” She marked his inseam on her note, writing his name across the top. Damian Evans. Damian held his hand out to help her to her feet.
“Not really,” he replied. “I trust you to find what looks best on me.”
Gemma nodded as she rolled up her measuring tape. Convincing herself that it was for completely professional purposes, she allowed herself one more full-body look at her old friend. Totally unprofessional, she chided herself as she felt her mind wandering. Rather than trying to brainstorm a look for his Gotham Ball suit, she was imagining what he looked like under his thin t-shirt and jeans. Gemma had seen him naked before but that had been ages ago. With so many years of pro basketball under his belt, he had to look different now. She couldn’t help wondering how different.
“So we’re all good?” Damian asked, a smile in his voice as he watched her put her tools away.
“We’re all good,” Gemma replied, turning away from him to hide her furiously burning cheeks. She didn’t remember blushing this hard around Damian ever before.
This might be an issue.
~
“So, I’m a perv.”
Gemma watched as Leah and Kate looked up slowly from their plates, carefully exchanging a glance between them. She had let the words tumble from her mouth during a particularly quiet moment at the brunch table. Gemma hadn’t touched her Florentine once as she listened to Leah talk about her job search and Kate about her budding romance with Mitchell. Instead, she opted to sip slowly on her Bellini, taking in the beautiful garden
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