“Like I said before, I am but a mere mortal who can only resist a goddess in my bed for so long.” I trace my fingers up and down her spine lovingly.
“I’m actually happy you’re awake early today. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
I tilt my head down a bit to see her face. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, absolutely, it’s fine, but my agent sent me an email late last night. There is a charity event tonight in the city. A bigwig designer is having an auction for some of his pieces and they’ve asked if I’d like to walk the runway for it.”
“Don’t they usually give more notice, Petal?”
“Generally yes, but this is someone who I’ve been wanting to get in front of. I don’t know that I will have an opportunity like this again. But…”
Her eyes that were bright mere seconds ago now have a darkened cast to them. “What is this face?”
“I…I want to do it so badly. I haven’t done a runway in ages. He…he wouldn’t let me. Then by the time I healed, I didn’t want to anymore.”
That motherfucker.
“Wouldn’t let you? What do you mean? It was your job and you liked doing it, I assume. Why the hell would he keep that from you?”
I already know the answer though… but I want to hear it from her.
“He, uh, he didn’t want anyone looking at me in certain ways. He had to pick my clothes, sometimes my hair and makeup. I always looked nice, but I never felt pretty. He’d go on my shoots to approve of the wardrobe and to make sure I wasn’t with men. It was women only or solo. It took the fun out of it.”
The number of people in her sphere that allowed this to go on makes me absolutely feral.
“You should do this.”
“What? Really?”
“First, you don’t need my approval or permission. If you want to do this, do this. You should. Take this back from him.”
She is silent for a moment then drops the final seal of her own approval that she wants to do this. “It’s for a domestic violence charity.”
“Petal, then you must do this. Go there. Be strong. Be fierce. Be fearless. I’ll go with you if you want, and I’ll support you every step.”
“You’d do that? Really?”
“Would I like the chance to stand proudly at your side and watch you advocate for those who can’t? Would I like to watch you assert your power? Would I like to see you offer a silent fuck you to that bastard wherever he may rot? All of these answers are assuredly yes.”
“There will be a lot of press coverage. There will be no hiding the appearance of an us after that. Is that what you want?”
“I’m tired of hiding. I’m done. I want to shout from the rooftops that you’re mine and I’m going to do that. We know the rules when we are on campus, but that has nothing to do with off campus.”
She pushes herself to sit up and straddles my body and cups my face in her hands. “Do you mean that?”
I cradle her waist in my grip. “I do.” Two simple words with such a monumental meaning.
Nora
Once I sent the email to my agent letting her know I was a go for the event, my day became a whirlwind of fittings, meetings with the designer, powwows with the makeup artists and hairstylists for the event, but I’ve never felt more in my element.
I’ve missed the hustle and bustle of the runway. There is no time to second-guess. There is no time to even think really. It’s all adrenaline and serotonin.
Plus, Tristan has always been within my line of sight.
Not in the way Evan ever was, not at all.
Evan was domineering, scary, and always made me feel small. He made everyone on set uncomfortable.
With Tristan, you wouldn’t even know he’s here except for the goosebumps I get when I can feel his eyes on me. While I am in hair and makeup for the final time, Tristan approaches me from behind. I can see him coming in the mirror. His right hand is tucked in his trouser pocket and the other is hanging at his side. Somewhere in the last five minutes he was away from me, he managed to change into the black-on-black suit that he wore the first night he watched me. Only this time, a blood-red tie hangs from his neck with a pocket square at his breast to match.
His smile only grows wider as the makeup artist steps back to allow Tristan access to me. I raise my cheek for a soft kiss and I get one, followed by the petals of a rose down my cheek. “I wish I had my sketch pad. How does one raise perfection? I’ve just seen it happen.”
“You certainly know how to make a girl feel very, very good.” I take the rose in my hand, minding the thorns, even though part of me wants to slide my fingertip across one. The bite, the stinging pain, would be a reminder of this moment for the rest of the night. “Is this for me?”
“It would be for no one else.” He stares into my eyes through my reflection in the mirror. “You look absolutely exquisite.”
“Thank you.” I press the bud of the rose up to my nose and inhale the sweet, floral scent. “I’m nervous, though. It’s been so long and these heels,” I hold up my foot for him to see the four-inch, lilac-colored Christian Louboutin stilettos they’ve put me in for the night, “are certainly a little too tall for me. I’m out of practice.”
“Fucking hell, Petal, you’re keeping those. I’ll pay whatever they want for them.”
I can’t help but giggle a bit at his instant reaction because of the intensity. Then again, I also start to think about all the things he could ask me to do with them on and my face flushes with heat. “I think that can be arranged.” After a deep breath, I rise out of my chair. When I’m standing at his side, my body fits against his differently. My nose hits near his chin. I’m instantly overwhelmed by his scent. I’ve never had a man excite me and calm me in the same breath like he does.
“They’ve told me I have a front-row seat on your left side, Petal. I will be there for you to walk to and from every time. You need only look my way and if I see fear in your eyes, I will meet you backstage and make whatever excuse necessary to take you out of here. Know that will be an option, should you need it.”
I close my eyes and nod, resting against him as he carefully wraps me in his arms, mindful not to crumple me or the outfit. “Thank you.”
“If you don’t stop thanking me…”
I smile and tip my head back so I can see his face. “What are you going to do about it?”
That devilish grin that I’ve grown to love appears on his lips, but when he opens his mouth to answer, the show director shouts that it’s time for us to line up.
“Saved by the bell,” he says, kissing my forehead. “I’ll see you out there, Petal.”
“Okay.” I nod and hold on to his hand as he walks away, only dropping it when the distance requires it.
All right, Nora, let’s do this.
Things are the same, but different with this show. The lights come up, the music blares, the color of the clothing is like a rainbow with all the different hues and fabrics. I have a knot in my stomach. It’s one I should have though. It’s the one I used to get when I was excited to be here and to do just this. The only thing I have to fear is falling in these shoes.