More than Friends - Page 12

“You clean up good,” Dean says to me with a wink and his usual cocky grin.

He eyes up every curve of my body, from my legs to my face, making me feel somewhat self-conscious in this tight red dress that compliments my blonde hair and light complexion. Good thing I have a winter coat covering the more exposed parts of my flesh.

“For once, you look like a girl.”

If he wasn’t my best friend, my fist would be connecting with his jaw right about now. Dean gets away with things no one else could manage. That was his way of complimenting me without making things too weird between us.

I laugh at his stupid comment and shake my head. “Thanks, jerkface. You’re not so bad yourself.”

He holds out his arm for me, smiling like an idiot and completely unfazed by my dig at him. “Ready for dinner, Kitten?”

“Yeah, I’m starving, and I can’t wait to see my dad and brothers. I haven’t seen them in over a month.”

“At least you will have all summer with them.”

I smile at the thought of our yearly traditions at the Baldwin Estate, my childhood home just outside of Chicago and only a forty-minute drive from where we are standing.

“Dad wants you to come this summer. He asked me last night on the phone if you would be joining us.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Wherever you are is where I want to be, but I can’t leave my mom all by herself. She needs me to help her out with the bills.”

Once I latch onto him, Dean pulls me at his side, keeping me close. My younger brothers love Dean because of how protective he is over me. Tucker and Theo are also the reason we never took our relationship further.

“Your mom is invited, too. The more, the merrier. We have plenty of room for you both.”

“She would love that, but I doubt she will come with me considering her work schedule.”

With a firm grip on my arm, Dean escorts me outside, the chill from the air leeching into my skin. Dean runs his hand down my back and arms to keep me warm, while his teeth chatter.

“Why don’t you have a coat?”

He shrugs, as he hails us a cab. “I dunno. All I could think about was getting here in time to pick you up for dinner. A coat was the last thing I cared about.”

I shake my head at him, even though his gesture warms my heart. Dean always puts me first. “It’s too cold to forget about something as simple as a jacket. You could get sick.”

“I play hockey, Kitten. No weather is too cold for me.”

“I play, too, but that doesn’t mean I need to freeze my ass off outside the rink.”

“You should be used to it, especially after growing up in a cold climate and traveling from rink to rink most of your life.”

A cab pulls up to the curb, and Dean releases his grip on me to open the door and help me inside. Once I’m snuggled against his side and on our way to the steakhouse, he takes my hands in his and rubs them together. Then, he brings them up to his mouth to breathe on my skin, warming them with his touch.

“How about now? All better?” He stares at me with those denim irises that pierce through my soul.

For a second, my breath catches, and I have no idea what to say because words fail me. Dean’s gesture is so intimate and loving. In times like these, I wish we could become more than friends.

“Uh-uh,” I mutter. The heat from his mouth ignites a fire beneath my skin. I turn my head to look out the window, desperate for a break from the emotions Dean stirred inside my chest.

I hate when I have flashes of attraction to Dean. He makes it hard not to feel something for him, even if it’s only sexual tension. Most girls ask me how I can stay friends with Dean without throwing myself at him every day. It’s not easy.

We don’t speak on the ride over to the restaurant, which suits me fine. A friendship like ours does not require words.

Dean holds my hand on his thigh until the valet attendants open our doors. I give the driver money before Dean can open his wallet, which I have no doubt will piss him off. He hates when I pay for anything, despite knowing how much money I have in my trust fund.

I slide out of the car and Dean hooks his arm through mine, as he drags me to the sidewalk.

“You should have let me pay,” he growls.

Tags: Jillian Quinn Romance
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