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“Wear it for me.”
Eyes focused on the mirror again, she tried to see what he did. The straps and the top edge of her washed-out bra showed. There was a line on both hips where her underwear sat. The dress was too long, too fitted and too short on fabric at the same time. Her cheeks were pink and the flush stole down her neck and across her chest. Her eyes were so big they looked feverish. She’d bundled her hair into a makeshift bun with an elastic, but curls tangled at her neck and around her face. She was barefoot and the dress was a silvery puddle on the floor and she wore Damon like a cloak that made all that bad stuff nearly invisible. She let a breath, six parts shock, three parts unexpected relief, two parts heady expectation, go.
She was almost beautiful.
13: Hide and Seek
Taylor gelled his hair. Slicked it back on the sides and left a piece to fall over his forehead. It would cover the scar where he’d split his brow on an open cupboard door and then Angus split it again.
She kept slapping him across the shoulder because he wouldn’t sit still enough for her liking. “Fuck a duck, Dame, what crawled up you since this morning?”
He nearly said a silky dress and the woman too scared to wear it, but Taylor could just as easy gel him a mohawk if he annoyed her. “I could ask you the same thing, Trill.”
“Make a change from you asking me to move in with you.”
He said, “When are you moving in?” and braced for another blow. He wanted that argument over, and soon. When the smack didn’t come he swung around to face her, but either she’d moved or the light source in Moon Blink’s green room needed a boost. “Tay?”
She straddled his lap. “Are you seeing someone?”
He felt for her waist, stuck his fingers in her belt loops and hoisted her into a more comfortable position across his thighs. “Yeah.”
She pressed her thumb into the divot in his chin. “Who? When? Why did
n’t you tell me?”
“It’s only new, real new, last night and today new.”
She shifted, bony backside corking his thigh and he winced, so she did it again. “Tell me, tell me. Why didn’t you tell me this morning?”
“Because you were fixated on Dalia.” Dalia was all Taylor wanted to talk about at the gym.
“Forget her. So long as she doesn’t try getting her claws in Jamie again she’s a cool chick.”
“Isn’t that up to Jamie?”
She palmed his cheeks. “Who’s the chick? Someone from before?”
“Brand new.”
Her hands came away. “You’ve hardly been back long enough to meet anyone. Ooh, it’s short skirt and legs from Avocado. Ah, she’s a bit young.”
“Not Lauren. Good legs?”
“Great legs. How come I didn’t vet this one?”
“You can’t pimp for me forever.”
“Why not? That worked. I’ve saved you from all kinds of fuck-ups.”
True. After a couple of disasters where he’d hooked up with a women old enough to be his mother, and at least one who was mainlining madness, Tay became his wingman. She had explicit instructions to weed out the crazy eyes, the party drug takers, the doing it for a dare and the disabled guy fetishisers he’d have trouble identifying before he was in too deep.
But she didn’t pick Candace, none of them did. Candace who looked and acted the part of gentle, pretty, yoga teacher and health food store owner. Candace, who’d moved into his life for two years, had done him some damage. She was convinced, despite meeting Lina, he could be cured. All he needed was a bump on the head or enough organic fruit juice combined with meditation and suddenly he’d be 20/20 again. He’d not seen anyone steady since Candace left him because she thought he hadn’t tried hard enough and she simply couldn’t see herself with a blind guy for the rest of her life.
“You can tell me if Georgia has crazy eyes.”
“And where did you meet this Georgia?”
“She was my engineer at Avocado. You probably saw her in reception.”
