The Deep End ✔️

29 - so be it

"Remind me why we're doing this again."

Dallas ignored the question. I let out a frustrated huff and glared at the wall as if it was the source of my irritation. His fingers grazed my collarbone as he buttoned the top button of my shirt gingerly.

He backed away and tossed me a tasteful blue tie, much to my dismay. "A tie? Is the Queen of England going to be at your office party?" I asked with a scowl, already swinging the tie around my neck. "I wanted to go until you said formal attire and now I'd like to go back to bed."

Dallas's firm was a generous one that often threw celebratory parties when a goal was reached or a big case was won. I didn't really know the technicalities of the office itself, but since Dallas was just an associate, he worked as an in-between man amongst the four partners of the firm. He seemed to be enjoying it thus far and hadn't complained once. Everyone in the office—and their significant others—was invited to this particular party for some . . . collection rates . . . or something. I didn't know. But Dallas said there'd be plenty of free booze, so I was down from the start.

Until he reminded me the day of that it was a dress-up situation where my khakis and polo wouldn't suffice.

"What do you mean you don't own a suit? You're a grown man," Dallas had said when I broke the news over the phone.

"This grown man has lived nearly seven years of adulthood without needing a stupid suit once, thank you," I snapped. "What do I do? Do you have a spare?"

Dallas grunted and I could hear him grab his keys. "No, Thomas, you can't wear mine. You'd look ridiculous. Just—dammit, babe, this is cutting into my haircut time—meet me at that tux store at the end of your road in thirty," he said and then hung up.

And so the entire morning was wasted on trying on and hating at least one million suits with Dallas standing by like Richard Gere, which I guess made me Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. I wasn't a prostitute, but I was out of my element. And then Dallas paid for it, along with new ties, apparently, a spare dress shirt, and dress shoes.

It was a bit tense while we were getting ready since we pushed all our time with getting the stupid suit. Dallas did not get his haircut, which I think he was frustrated about.

"I don't think the Queen is able to make it this time," Dallas said, meticulously trying to tie his won tie. He'd gotten better at it since I taught him how at the beach house, but still had to start over once or twice.

I pulled the suit jacket over my arms and looked at myself in the mirror. "I look ridiculous," I said, holding my arms out stiffly.

"You literally look sexy as fuck," Dallas said, a nip in his voice that sounded misplaced with those words. "You can just stay home if the suit is that much of a problem, Thomas. I don't care."

Only that was a lie because I knew he did care. It was important to him to show up to our first outing together, to set the tone to his coworkers that this was who he was. To get the assholes who had a problem with it out of the way before it was too late. He was mad at me because I was being a little shit about the whole thing and I felt guilty, but not enough to apologize yet.

"I'm not staying home," I muttered and ran a hand through my hair to muss it up deliberately.

I glanced over at my boyfriend, chest warming at the sight of him still struggling with his tie. Even after all this time, I still felt a familiar pang of awe every time I looked at him. I set my pride aside and approached him, taking his hands in mine and moving them out of the way so I could take over. He watched me sternly, not saying anything but eyes softening when I looked up at him.