“Not awkward at all,” she said. “Hope Nadia doesn’t mind.”
“I’m more worried Jeremy will be annoyed.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about him. He’s a pro and very considerate of my time.”
“How nice for you.”
“I think so.”
“Lior,” Ava called. “Lean in closer now, hovering your mouth over his. Good. Now give me a hint of tongue.”
When they told us they got the shot and we were released to change into the next outfits, I stayed seated for a few seconds longer. I was angry, but I could see that she was too. And I didn’t blame her. From her point of view, I’d stood her up for what looked like a romp with my ex. And then I’d never texted her back. I knew I could fix it all with a simple explanation. But I didn’t like the way she’d handled her hurt feelings. It was something Nadia would pull, and that just wasn’t okay with me.
Also, I now had a semi and badly needed it to go away before I stood and people saw. No matter that I was mad at her, the woman looked sexy as hell and her leaning over me in chiffon and leather, her breath hot on my skin, her tongue inches from my neck… it was cruel.
The day went on in much the same fashion. Lighting, makeup, clothing. Discussions about my facial hair – to shave the scruff or not to? Cut the hair? I’d been told by Fran that I could say no to anything I was uncomfortable with. But then I heard some of the ideas being thrown around and got curious – even excited. When would I ever get to do something like this again? And so an evolution of my look began and Lior and I posed again and again. We were Light and Dark. Death and Life. Lightning and Thunder. Love and Heartbreak. Lust and Chastity. Princess and Prince. Monster and Beauty. Black and White. Anger and Joy.
With each dynamic the color schemes changed. The scenery. The feel. The clothing. I was in all black. She was in all white. She was soaking wet, her dress sheer from the water and clinging to her skin. I stood above her, sinister, wind making my shirt billow behind me like a cape. My hair got shorter and more styled. Hers was blown out, pulled back, wild, wet and streaming rivulets of water down skin covered in goosebumps.
She was luminous in pink tulle kept in place by slender gold metal chains around her torso and the fabric undulated beneath the wind from a large fan. She looked sexy as fuck in cream-colored lace with stiff strips of vinyl encircling her waist and neck like an S&M tutu and collar. She emulated a dreamlike state in sky blue satin with chain link cuffs. But when she stepped from her dressing room in a red satin dress that stood apart from all the other designs as it hung to the floor from a wide black leather collar, and hugged her in places that made it very apparent she was wearing nothing underneath, I felt a surge of need I hadn’t felt in ages.
Goddamn she was beautiful. The anger I’d held onto all day like a life raft dissipated in the wind from the fan and I stood across from her as we waited for the lighting to be changed, watching as her makeup was touched up.
A few minutes later, makeup done, she moved closer to me, still not looking my way.
“Hey,” I said, my voice quiet. “I’m sorry for the other day.”
“No worries,” she said, studying her nails.
“Lior.”
She looked at the nails on her other hand.
“Lior?”
She turned her hand over and traced the lines of her palm with one red and black fingernail. I started to laugh.
“What’s it telling you?” I asked.
“That I have lousy taste in friends.”
“I’m telling Addie.”
She turned her face away but I caught the grin she was trying to hide.
“Can I explain what happened?” I asked.
“I think I got the gist.”
“No, you don’t. I was set up.”
When she turned to face me, she looked upset.
“I’m telling the truth,” I said.
She sighed and stared at me for a long moment before saying. “I believe you. Mostly because I know how her twisted little mind works.”
“It’s par for the course with her.”
