Brady in a suit was going to be the end of me. Expertly tailored to show off his unbelievably perfect body. I bit my lip watching him slide on shiny black leather shoes. Midnight black with a deep grey button down, he looked like the devilishly handsome villain in every Bond movie. He turned to look at me and smirked. I blushed, still openly staring at his body. He held up two ties, one black, one maroon.
"Neither." I walked over to him and with fumbling hands undid the top two buttons of his shirt. "It's dinner, not a post-game interview." I teased and stepped back from him. Slowly, I ran my eyes over his face, his strong smooth jaw.
"Are you ready?" He snapped me out of my trance.
"Almost." I ducked into the bathroom. I had done my hair and makeup in my work dress, not wanting foundat
