JJ Watt is one of the NFL's best football players and he's only 25. He's put his personal life on hold for his career and has vowed no girls, parties, and alcohol.
Kat Hurley is an 18 year old college student that everyone seems to have their eye on...
When I unzipped the bag, my jaw dropped. The black dress bag held a short burgundy lace patterned dress with long sleeves and a pretty deep neckline. It was the exact opposite of the type of clothing I would wear.
"Jacob Travis Hurley, how on God's green earth is this appropriate for meeting your boss and eating at a fancy restaurant? I look like I'm going to hit the club or something!" I exclaimed as I turned to dig through my things, angry that he would buy me something like that, "Better yet, I'll look like a call girl!"
"Wear the dress and heels! I want to show off my gorgeous sister!" He exclaimed with a stern face, telling me I wouldn't win this argument with him.
I released an exasperated sigh and turned back around. I pulled my Jersey and tights off and pulled the dress on. I reached for the shoe box and inside sat the most incredible pair of tan t-strapped peep-toe Christian Louboutin's. The same shoes I had told myself I would buy if I came into a lot of money.
"Jacob, these are thousand dollar heels!" I shouted, amazed that he would spend that kind of money on me.
"A friend gave them to me to give to you. She figured you'd have better use for them than her since she can't wear heels over four inches now," he quipped with a smirk, knowing I was freaking out about the cost.
"Who just gives someone a thousand dollar heels?" I murmured more to myself than my brother as I pulled the heels on, praying I didn't scuff them.
"A wealthy friend and there is a bag under the seat for you for your phone and whatever else you put in your purse," Jacob replied, glancing at me through the mirror.
I just shook my head as I pulled the sizeable simple caramel-colored leather bag out. I placed my phone, wallet, and ChapStick inside. I slipped my glasses back on my face and watched the city go by as one of the many country stations played on the radio. After about ten minutes, we pulled up in front of this swanky restaurant, and a valet walked to the car.
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Jacob handed the keys to the man and opened my door. I slipped out and adjusted my dress, which hit mid-thigh, but would ride up as I walked thanks to my large thighs and ass. My curly blonde hair that had been in a messy bun on the flight flowed to the middle of my back in loose curls, and my shortest layer framed my face.
I hadn't noticed before, but Jacob wore a black suit, white button-up, black tie, and wavy blonde hair styled in a perfect quiff. He looked like he was trying to be James Bond, so I knew he was trying to impress his boss.
I could feel the people starring at us as we walked in, and I had to do everything in my power not to run right out the door. I hated being the center of attention.
"I have a reservation under the name of Hurley," Jacob spoke smoothly to the attractive hostess behind the podium.
"Ah, yes, right this way, Sir. When will your third-person be getting here?" She questioned as she escorted us to our table.
