Page 5 of His Red Carnation

Callan, it’s Sloane, the 18-year-old you have to babysit.

I hit send and instantly regretted it. I didn’t want him to see me as a little girl. But his response came quickly.

Ha. You’re funny. Pretty sure you can take care of yourself, but it’s my job. Sorry you think of me as your babysitter.

I bit the side of my lip, debating my next move.

I don’t think of you that way at all.I hit send, my heart racing. What would he make of that?

Good. Now where do you need a ride to at 7 or 8?

I smiled to myself.

It’s a surprise. Meet me in the hallway at 7:30.

What I really wanted to do was pull him into my bedroom and get on my knees in front of him. I instantly got wet at the thought.

Okay. I’ll see you then.

I glanced at my phone—it was 6:30 p.m. Time to get ready and wear something that would show him I wasn’t a little girl anymore.

It was still warm, so I could easily wear another dress. I slipped into a cute summer skater dress, flared and super short. The best part was the low-cut neckline that highlighted my breasts. I slid on a thong, already imagining where I’d get a tattoo on my back, secretly hoping Callan might catch a glimpse of my ass. I was proud of my curves—they came from my mom, and people never stopped admiring her body, even though she was so much more than just her looks.

I glanced at myself in the mirror, adjusting the white floral dress before slipping on a pair of white low-top Converse. Grabbing a cardigan from my closet in case it got chilly, I started on my makeup—thin winged eyeliner, a touch of pink blush, anddark pink lipstick. If my dad saw me like this, he’d probably have a heart attack. Luckily, he was still buried in work downstairs.

I stood up and gave myself one last look in the mirror, smiling as I turned around, satisfied with how I looked. I took a quick glance at my phone—7:25 p.m.Perfect. I grabbed my purse and stepped out of my room, only to find Callan leaning against the hallway wall. He was still in his suit from earlier, but without the jacket and tie. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top, and his sleeves were rolled up, exposing more of the tattoos that covered his forearms. My heart pounded like it was about to leap out of my chest.

His eyes widened slightly as he looked at me.

“Hey,” I greeted quietly, shutting the door behind me.

His jaw tightened. “Hey. You ready?” His face was serious, and he didn’t take his eyes off me, making me feel suddenly self-conscious.

“Uh huh.” I nodded.

He glanced down the hallway, then back at me. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” His raised eyebrows hinted at mild annoyance.

I fought back a smile, feeling a little mischievous. “I’ll tell you in the car. Let’s go.” I turned and headed down the hallway, fully aware of him following behind me. I swayed my hips on purpose, just like earlier.

We headed down the stairs and through the side corridor that led to the Presidential cars. Callan opened the back door for me, but I shook my head.

“I want to sit up front.”

I walked around the car, opening the passenger door myself and slipping in quickly. Callan got in the driver’s seat, side-eyeing me.

“Okay. Now what?” he asked, his elbow resting on the armrest between us. His muscled arms looked like they wereabout to burst out of his shirt. My heart pounded as I stole a quick glance before looking straight ahead.

I typed the tattoo shop’s address into my phone and placed it in the center cup holder. As Siri announced the directions, I could feel Callan’s eyes on me.

“I’m not fucking taking you to get a tattoo,” he muttered, clearly exasperated.

I turned to him, narrowing my eyes. “Yes, you are,” I shot back.

He shook his head quickly. “No way. Your dad would kill me.”

I rolled my eyes. “My mom gave me her blessing. Now please, let’s go.”

Callan stared at me, as if weighing his options. I noticed his eyes flicker down to my cleavage before he quickly looked away.

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