Page 4 of Mine to Ruin

I give in, Aubrey beaming at the prospect. Tara and I exchange another look, and her eyes fill with commiseration. She turns around, leaving me with our fashion monster. Aubrey rummages through clothes, and picks a pair of white shorts and a ruffled red top.

“Your ass looks amazing, girl.”

“It’s the donuts.”

We giggle and she moves to my honey brown hair. She curls it, letting it fall over my back. She ends my transformation for tonight by applying eyeliner, a dash of highlighter, and red lipstick. I feel sexy, but sophisticated, as I twirl around in front of the mirror.

“You like it?” she asks, excitement filling her eyes.

“I love it!” I answer.

Aubrey wipes invisible sweat from her brow dramatically.

Tara enters and, pointing straight at me, she says, “I want what she has.”

We all giggle, and Aubrey goes to dress and undress Tara until they decide on a black jumpsuit. I put my sandals on, and my curls tickle my arms. With the sway of my hips, I feel my confidence boost. Aubrey looks glamorous in a pink pencil skirt and a tight top.

Our mouths stretch into bright smiles as I snatch a picture of us and close the door behind me. Nerves take residence in my belly, the apprehension and excitement raising the hairs on my body.

We step out of the Uber and, at the club entrance, cameras flash. I duck my head and rush inside to an opulent black decor, packed with people. Large crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling. Bottles sparkle along on the wall behind the long bar, and behind it, bartenders spin drinks in a loop. Couches and tables sit high over the polished floor. Gray flashing lights, and electronic beats ripple across my skin.

Aubrey smacks a kiss on a waiter’s cheek when he informs us, we would’ve lost our reserved table had we arrived five minutes later.

“What’s so special about this one? We’re in Las Vegas, there’s constantly an opening,” Tara bemoans, echoing my thoughts.

Aubrey adds, “But not when Kian Reyes opens a club. He’s going to be your boss. I so envy you.”

“He’s way up the totem pole, so I doubt I’ll even meet him.”

She has a fascination with anyone even remotely famous. When I told her about my childhood and teenage years, as I frequented one gallery after the other and everyone wanted to take a photo of me and my art, she threw her fists into the air and said, “It’s like the less you want to be known, the more attention you get. So unfair!”

It was hard to explain what fame does to you, the price you pay—the pressure, the fake smiles, and how it changes you, so I didn’t. She made being famous sound like a dream. I knew it wasn’t.

We order a round of cocktails, and the later it gets, the more people cram themselves in while a claustrophobic feeling starts to cage me in. I plop on the U-shaped couch that swallows my ass, kicking off my heels, and I almost moan as I massage my sore feet. Tara joins me and Aubrey’s eyes scan the crowd with pure glee in her eyes whenever she notices someone famous, which happens every few minutes.

“Look at her. Have you seen her this happy?” Tara giggles and shakes her head.

Aubrey gestures for us to join her for a dance and I put my heels on. We rise to our feet and sway our hips next to her. I let the music take over and move in the rhythm of the seductive beats and close my eyes, the sound and the lyrics transfixing me. My hands glide from my hair down my chest and torso, letting loose.

Suddenly, I get a feeling I’m being watched, and my skin heats. My eyes peel open, and my entire world shifts as I nearly lose my balance.

I fall into the depths of intense gray eyes, and I gulp. On pure reflex, my hand flies to my chest. Everything metamorphoses, starting with my insides. This cacophony of emotions rising and crashing in my chest at once overwhelms me.

New sensations I have no name for jolt my heart. With every second his eyes stay on me, heat sears my skin. His deep gaze swallows me whole. His thick brows furrow while his stare penetrates every cell of my being. I try to shake his magnetic pull by peeling my gaze away as I turn and try to compose myself.

With shaky fingers, I grab my drink, and take a sip from it. My ears are pounding and it’s an unfamiliar sound, a rhythm I don’t recognize. My entire core is on a carousel, and all I can do is wait, with bated breath, until the ride is over.

I lift my gaze, the mad curiosity taking an inextricable hold on me. He is just a stranger, and it was a singular moment, whatever happened. But then I find his eyes again and it’s stripping me bare, leaving me exposed to the bone, reveling in his attention. I drag air into my lungs, afraid the intensity might suffocate me, while my heart whispers the most nonsense possible.

He’s the one.

It’s as if I have lived in the shadows, and now I peer into a kaleidoscope, and in the middle is him. I blink, and everything vanishes but him. It’s only the two of us as an invisible cord links me to him. Sparks shoot through me, more intense with every second his eyes hold me captive. He cocks his head, his eyes never wavering from me.

Does he feel it, too? This madness. He looks like the type of man who could devour me. And why does that sound so thrilling?

A waiter passes by with a tray, and he takes a glass without breaking our eye contact. He takes a sip and his full lips glisten with the drop of alcohol. He swipes it with his thumb and I am pretty sure my ovaries exploded.

An electric buzz lights up my core, and my lips curve up, as if inviting the inevitable in my life, with a brave face. The corner of his carnal lips lift, and a dimple appears.

---