Page 11 of Grasp The Moment

“What’re you wearing?” I croak, raising a brow as Itake in the white dress shirt before landing on the all-black slacks. I remember vividly that he’d been wearing an Amelia Tate army green sweater; the back of the sweater had gone viral for its spray-painted teddy bear and the Amelia Tate logo. He’d even paired the outfit with a pair of quiet designer jeans, Carlos LeBlanc, to be exact.

Looking at him now, I’m devastatingly aware that these arenothis clothes. The shirt is too big and the pants too tight. Derek's clothes typically fit him like a glove.

“I could ask you the same thing. You had on that cute little sequined number last night.”

I roll my eyes and shift in the bed. “I still… do.”

He furrows his brows, and my heart stops.

My eyes widen inhorror, an anxiety rash brimming against my skin as my eyes trail down and land on the tattered white dress loosely hanging off of me.

“What…The… Fuck?” I heave, jumping from the bed.

My body only makes it half a centimeter away from Derek, his dastardly lime green handcuffs keeping metetheredto him.

And here I thought Derek was the only victim of the handcuffs…

He groans, “What the fuck? Why are we stuck?—”

A bark cuts him off.

My eyes widen to the size of saucers.

A dog?he mouths, brown eyes wide as they swiftly move from me to the door of the bedroom that leads out into the hotel's living room.

“Go check!” I whisper-shout, gesturing wildly to the door.

“Me?Why should I check?” He raises his brows before shooting daggers at me with his eyes.

“Are you not theman?” I taunt, running my free hand through my hair.

“Are you not handcuffed to said man? What if it isn’t even coming from our room?!” he whisper-shouts back.

I groan before my eye lands on the shiny key behind him.

Pursing my lips, I roll my eyes. “Unlock us, the key’s right there.”

Derek grins. “You’re so smart,” he says in a mocking tone.

So, of course, I mimic him. “You’re so smart.”

When we’re finally uncuffed, he gets out of the bed and slowly makes his way to the living room. Trailing behind him, I groan, seeing my clothes from last night thrown on the floor near the front door.

“That was a two-hundred-dollar set…” I curse under my breath, picking up the jeweled two-piece as Derek coos from behind me.

“Look at… her!” he whispers, his voice soft, and when I turn around, I’m pretty sure I’ve died and gone to heaven.

He’s standing shirtless in the living room; the slacks he’d been wearing hang loosely on his waist. My mouth waters at the sight of him, but what catches my attention the most is the dirty blonde American Cocker Spaniel in his arms.

The puppy is small against his chest with the prettiest pair of brown and green eyes.

“Oh my goodness, she has heterochromia!” I squeal, completely disregarding my clothes as I trot toward them, my arms out for the dog.

He carefully places her in my arms, a soft smile on his face as he pets her head.

“What is your name, precious?” I coo, my eyes widening as I take in the diamond-encrusted collar around her neck, only to find nothing.