AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What if I tell you there’s a woman involved?”
“Nice try, G.” His scoff travels from one ear to the other.
I’m the lead of a famous rock band.
I don’t have issues finding willing participants in the bedroom or the dressing room or the back of a car if you know what I mean. So his attempt to bride me gets him nowhere. “Clock is ticking. I’m going to hang up when I get to three unless you have something worth my time.”
I start to count out loud to him, Genevie stuttering his proper boy bullshit into the phone.
He’s got nothing and I’m having too much fun teasing him. With a grin a little too cheeky, I pull the device from my ear, prepared to end his suffering with a thumb hovering over the end call button.
“Please.”
I pause.
“Please Rex.” I hear him clear as day as if I’d flipped to speaker phone. “No one else will do except you. Ithasto be you.”
“G …” The fight has left me, the teasing gone along with the callused fingertips that drag down my face.
“Only you.”
3
ARIA
Idon’t know how I allowed myself to end up here. In this dungeon that’s not a dungeon with a strange man that is petite enough, proper enough, and just a step beyond odd, to safely consider him gay.
Is that judgey?
Feels judgey.
If it hadn’t been for the connection to my sister, and averylong pep talk from her and Cedar, I would have left so many times by now.
But here I am. With a text that saysgo get ‘em, no one’s gonna murder youfrom the group, and the scent of vanilla filling my nose.
There have to be at least a hundred candles burning on the far side of the studio, filling one entire corner with orange flickering light. It’s almost hypnotic, the flames, as they burn down into the glass holders, leaving trails of wax molten in their wake.
The place is an open floor plan, with ceilings higher than my entire apartment building, and brick walls as far as I can see. There’s one loft-like spot with an iron spiral staircase leading up to it where I can see a bed and some mussed sheets.
Maybe the photographer lives here … or maybe that’s a part of the shoot.
Fuck me.
Nerves slick my palms and nip at my heels, the voice in the back of my head screaming for me to run. Run back home where I’m safe and comfortable and I’ll die with just Chip’s memory to keep me company.
Never mind this baffling idea to leap out of my comfort zone and lead a more adventurous life.
I like boring. I like safe.
Whose fucking idea was this?
I’d rather be eating snacks in my bed than wearing one of my originals with almost nothing underneath. Donning my frame is a hand-tailored little black dress that I was saving for a huge occasion. I brought in, hemmed, and loosened all the right spots to fit my large ass and wide hips. I don’t know what occasion it was supposed to be for, but this is the one my sisters chose for me.
Dress sexy, they said. Dress to impress, they said. It might be fun.
Damn them both.
The strappy neck feels like the dress weighs about a million pounds around my neck, despite the fact that I know for sure there is less than that to this thing. The neckline dips low and loose around my hot skin, the silky fabric cool against my breasts. I swipe my sweaty palms on my legs again as the photographer comes through one of the only two doors in the place that I assume is some kind of office or changing area. There’s a tight smile on his feminine face that wasn’t there when I arrived.
