I buckle the strap to my tan suede block heels, smoothing the fabric over so that it all runs one way before I stand up.

Looking at myself in the full-length mirror in my bedroom, I check my stomach to see if I can actually see the butterflies fluttering around in there.

My velvet green strapless ball gown is practically glued to me, every body part snug in its place inside the material. I picked the signature color because it was the one I always looked best in, my mocha-colored hair always meshing well with the shade. My earrings were simple, small diamond studs, ones I’d bought myself as a birthday present last year.

I was ready. Wish Upon a Star threw an annual gala every year. And like every year, I gave a speech. And like every year, I was dreading it.

I knew as the CEO of my own company that public speaking was a must. I just really hated doing it. I was articulate, sure, but I typically let my work speak for itself. Alas, we needed funding from some of the biggest players in Charlotte, and this is how we kept the lights on and were able to make so many dreams come true. So for that, I’d swallow back the nervous bile threatening to work its way out of my throat and just get on with it.

There was a second reason I was so nervous tonight as well. I’d agreed to let Paxton escort me as my date.

He’d caught wind of the gala through a few guys on the team and in the Cheetahs organization who attended every year. And naturally, bugged me until I said he could go as my date.

My doorbell sounded, and Maya the cuddly guard dog barked. I quickly made my way downstairs, grabbing my clutch off the bed.

“Maya, shush. It’s your favorite person.”

It was true. Pax had been over to my house, never for the night though, a couple of times now, and Maya had all but peed on him and made him her own. Things with us had been going well, hence my letting him come to the gala. My parents asked about him every week that I spoke to or saw them, and he continued to send flowers or little treats to my office or home.

All in all, I was getting used to the idea that I could be with him again. And so was my body.

Our kissing had evolved from long, soft explorations to heated romps on the couch or in the car, to hands wandering and pulling at the fabric of clothes. Every time he touched me, I shivered. But for some reason, just before we crossed the line into southern territory, I put a stop to things. I couldn’t move to the next … base, to put a sports metaphor on things.

“Hi, beautiful!” Pax leans down when I open the door, his face covered by Maya kisses as he sticks a bone out for her to grab and devour.

“You spoil her.” I shake my head, laughing.

He stands, letting me have a good long look at the gorgeous god in a tux before me. “And hello, gorgeous.”

Pax holds out one single red rose, and I blush. The gesture is very romantic, and I let my heart be swept up in the moment. His emerald eyes rake over me, embers burning in them when his gaze falls over my cleavage and collarbone. Stepping into the house, he doesn’t pause before running his big, calloused hands down my bare arms and pressing his lips to said collarbone.

“You taste delicious. Let’s just stay here.”

A throaty laugh escapes my lips. “I’m throwing the event.”

“Farrah can handle it.” He moves to my shoulder.

“Uh-uh, no. Down boy.” I push him off.

“I’m not the dog here.”

“Oh, but you are.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “You look very handsome.”

“A regular power couple, we are. Now let’s go, you’re going to make us late,” he chides me sarcastically, and I roll my eyes.

Forty minutes later, we’re on the step and repeat, posing for photos. The press in attendance all wait their turn to interview me, my answers gracious and thorough. I love my job, so I schmooze to keep my business functioning. It’s a necessary evil.

Moving through the grand ballroom of The Chauncy, a beautiful event space in downtown Charlotte, I take in Gina’s work. Besides marketing, she’s always had the best eye for design. Tonight, she’s outdone herself. The chandeliers glisten above the dance floor, gold and crystal glistening from every corner of the room. Enormous white flower arrangements mark the middle of every table, becoming a conversation piece and centerpiece. The plates are lined with a thin gold, ornate detail, while the water goblets and wine glasses match. The entire gala has a sophisticated, ethereal feel, and it’s easy to get swept away in its romance.

“Would you care to dance?” Paxton’s hand meets the small of my back, and I want to melt into him.

Trying to keep a cool head, it would not be professional if everyone saw you make out with your date in the middle of the party, I nod. “I wasn’t aware you had moves.”

“Sweetheart, being light on my feet is part of my job description.” He moves me to the middle of the dance floor, his arms bracketing my body.

The twelve-piece band is playing an instrumental Sinatra tune, and I stare into Pax’s eyes as we sway to the rhythm. And then he gets fancy, doing some footwork as he sweeps me across the hardwood. I have to laugh, because he’s being so charming, and my heart won’t stop beating against my ribcage.

“You’re too good at this,” I murmur.

“What’s that?” His lips meet my ear.

“Making me fall.” It’s honest, and I’m scared to say it, but it’s out there.

He moves his head back so that we’re eye to eye, and the expression on his face is so serious. His mouth opens, and he’s about to respond, when we’re interrupted.

“Demi Rosen! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

I turn, seeing Chuck Gaskill standing right next to us. We’ve reached the edge of the dance floor, and the song has ended, so I move out of Paxton’s embrace and go to greet Chuck.

Offering my cheek, I introduce him as we air kiss. “This is Chuck Gaskill, owner of the biggest catering company in Charlotte. He donated all of the food tonight and is always a great partner whenever we need a wish fulfilled.”

“What she means is, I give her a lot of money. But I’m happy to do so.” The jovial, chubby man laughs, his entire body coming to life with the sound.

Pax stuck his hand out, putting on that typical all-star smile. “Paxton Shaw, nice to meet you. I’m her boyfriend.”

The word boyfriend left me dumbstruck, and I swear I had to check if my jaw was on the floor. We hadn’t discussed a title, nor what we were to each other. So much for not pushing things on me, or moving too fast.

Paxton Shaw was like an adorable bulldozer. He ran you over to get his way, but he looked damn cute doing it.

“Paxton Shaw, the wide receiver? Well, Demi, I didn’t know you were dating a superstar.” Chuck winks at me.

“Neither did I,” I murmured under my breath.

“What’s that, babe?” Pax gives me a toothy grin, and I know he’s being smug.

“Nothing. Chuck, are you enjoying yourself?” I lace my hand through Pax’s, the movement seeming second nature.

I squeeze, trying to let him know that I don’t really want to talk to people anymore. We’ve been here for hours, or so it seems, and I just want to give my speech and go home. I’ve never been overly social, I’m much happier hanging out at home in front of the fireplace with a glass of wine and a good book.

“There is drink, food and beautiful women. What is not to like? So, how long have you two been knocking boots?”

Chuck was never subtle, and could care less about offending people.

“Well, if you must know, Chuck … I don’t kiss and tell. Ever. So, I’m going to take this woman and get her up to the podium where she has a speech to give.”

Paxton to the rescue.

“Thank you,” I mutter as we make our way to the stage. “I don’t mind him usually, but he can be a lot.”

“I wasn’t about to tell him that I wish I could knock boots with you right now.” His eyes are pure carnal fire.

I have to take a deep breath, because how inappropriate would it be to get on stage while thinking about getting him naked.

“Promise we can get out of here immediately after I do this?”

“Absolutely.”