Page 25 of The Laughing Game

“Are you going to argue with me, Angel?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Fuck no. You know more about fashion than I do.”

He grinned. “Oh, we are going to get along just fine!”

He looked me over like I was a tasty snack.

“Right then. I’m going to go downstairs.” He stepped closer and gave me a look like he wanted to eat me. “Get dressed, and come along.”

After he’d left me alone, it was as if a summer storm had suddenly died. The air still crackled with his presence. I changed my shirt and put on the dark gray pants, using a black belt Gideon had selected, and looked in the mirror.

Holy shit. I looked like someone else. But I also felt more myself than ever.

Chapter Six

“Hey, do you think I should gel my hair?” I asked Gideon.

Gideon’s mouth dropped open. “Uh, yeah. Do you have some good putty or something?”

“Yeah. Do guys like that, too?”

“Honey, we like it when you make yourself pretty. Of course!”

I laughed. “I’m not pretty.”

“Angel, you’re a shiny penny in a dull world. You’re lovely.”

My heart just about fainted away.

“Thank you. I don’t see it. But, thank you.”

I walked to the half bath—I kept some gel down here, so I could do last minute touch ups when I went out. I was still reeling from Gideon’s sweet words. My hair had grown since I’d had it trimmed in the fall and I liked the way it looked. The wax made the reddish locks fall haphazardly around my freckled face, so that they softened the sharp lines of my features. I thought the black turtleneck made my skin look too pale. Gingers were having a bit of a moment, and Sebastian had assured me that gay and bisexual men loved guys with pale skin and red hair, so maybe I was okay with it.

When I went downstairs, Gideon’s eyes just about popped out of his head.

“Oh, holy shit! You lookso hot. Wait until V sees you!” he clapped his hands like a kid.

He’d put on his boots and coat, and was standing in the front hall. He peered out of the window and gave Vihaal a thumbs-up.

He turned back to me and his eyes widened. “No, wait!”

“What?” I asked, checking to make sure my fly was done up.

Gideon fumbled around in the pocket of his coat. He pulled out what looked like a pencil.

He gazed at me with a sort of yearning. “Would you let me do your eyes? Pretty please?”

“My eyes? Wait. Whoa.”

He lifted the pencil. “Just a bit of eyeliner. You’ll barely notice it.”

I hesitated. Was I ready for eye-liner?

“Look,” he said, drawing the tip across the back of his hand. “It’s a soft brown. It’ll make your eyes pop but nobody will know it’s there.”

“But I’ll know,” I said, not sure about it.

Gideon gazed at me with delightful candor. “You’re thinking about getting kinky with two perverts but you’re scared of brown eyeliner?”

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