Savior

Eleven: Wes

Mission Impress Mia's Parents was out in full force. We arrived on Oahu early Sunday afternoon. We settled in, took a nap, and then had to get ready for some sort of cocktail party. I had a feeling it was going to be an interesting night. I didn't know what to expect, but at the same time, I wasn't really nervous. I was a schmoozer. I could make anyone love me. Mia, on the other hand, was ready to pull her hair out. She was freaking out, and that was putting it mildly.

At this point, she'd locked herself in the bathroom for over an hour and I found myself grateful I'd gotten showered and shaved first. I was trying to calm her, but considering I didn't even know what to expect, I could only do so much. So I fed her some soothing words, as much champagne as she could safely ingest without embarrassing herself, and plenty of forehead kisses.

I decided to pull out all the stops: brand new jeans, a blush pink button up and a navy-blue blazer that I probably hadn't worn since the last football season I played. Running around being a drunk, party boy didn't really require much of a dress code. I even somehow managed to find a pocket square that matched my shirt. I left the top few buttons undone, because if I knew anything about rich, socialite moms, I was probably going to be pretty popular, and if I could take the focus off Mia and make her even a little more comfortable, I'd do it. Hell, I'd do a striptease on top of the damn table if it meant my girl had an alright night. That alone tipped me off to just how well and truly fucked I was when it came to Mia. I'd never felt like this about anyone, ever, and I was pretty content with never feeling it for anyone else again.

"Babe, we gotta go!" I called to Mia, still in the bathroom as I buttoned the cuffs of my dress shirt. "Uber will be here in ten!"

I didn't hear any words as a response, but a few seconds later, I did hear the bathroom door creak open, and when I looked up, I felt all of the air whoosh out of my lungs. "Holy shit..." I mumbled as she almost hesitantly headed toward me.

My eyes couldn't decide where to look. The Mia in front of me was definitely not the Mia I was used to. Her petite little frame was wrapped in a mini dress, rose gold glitter tightly wrapped around every curve. It pushed her chest up and out and... she didn't really need the help in that department. Her dark hair was stick straight, the top pulled up into a tight pony and her makeup made her glow like we'd already been on the island a week. Her heels laced halfway up her calf and brought her much closer to my height than she usually was. She looked like a girl that I'd walk into the club and instantly make my goal at the end of the night. She looked like herself, but... it was amplified. And it was making it hard to speak.

"Do I look okay?" she asked, softly, doing a slow spin.

"Okay?" I choked out, my traitor voice squeaking a bit. "Baby, you look... incredible."

"Really?" she asked, like she didn't believe what I was telling her. "I don't feel like myself."

"I mean... it's definitely different, but... you look hot as fuck..."

That made her smile. "Yeah?"

"Fuck yeah. I am... a lucky son of a bitch..."

She basically bounced until she was directly in front of me, pushed herself onto her toes and pressed her lips into mine. I fucking melted. Done for. I was absolutely done for. "Thank you."

"Thank me for what?" I asked with a laugh as one my hands landed on her hip. "For having a super-hot girl on my arm? Yeah... it's a real struggle."

She just laughed and shook her head, her cheeks flushing the slightest bit pink. "I mean, you look pretty hot yourself..." She backed up and I could feel her gaze tracing the lines of my body. "Oh my god..."