Page 4 of Irreversible

Allison

Mwahaha. Anyway, I gotta go tend to my inebriated placeholder. I hope you have extra hot sex tonight to make up for the fact that I’ll be sad and celibate. Send lots of pics!

Allison

…Of the party. Obviously. Not of the sex.

Allison

…Maybe.

Laughing out loud, I send her a flurry of multicolored hearts and slip my phone back into my garter, just as my name echoes throughout the ballroom.

Well, half of my name.

“Cross!” A man beelines toward me in a peachy button-down shirt and an eclectic jacket reminiscent of Alexander McQueen. “Shorter in person, but infinitely more stunning. I’ll need meticulous notes detailing your moisturizing routine.”

Blinking, I shift my attention to the unfamiliar man, while instinctively straightening my spine at the “short” comment. “Oh, thank you. Do you work for Casey?”

Casey Lee Abner designed the clothing line I’ve been representing with a few other models who have resumes far more intimidating than mine.

Tonight is the launch party.

“No, I’m just sleeping with him.” He says it casually, slurping some kind of fruity cocktail made of slush and a half-a-dozen paper umbrellas. “Trevor Scott. Social media influencer from Miami and a legendary fashion icon in a past life. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

“Of course.” I take the hand he offers, clearing my throat. “I’m Everly Cr?—”

“I know who you are. Casey hasn’t stopped talking about you since you killed that video ad for his swimwear line. He thinks you’re the next big thing.”

I buzz at the memory of how liberated I felt in front of the cameras that day, wearing nothing but a turquoise bikini and the residual chafing from my Brazilian wax.

But then the rest of his words register.

Next big thing.

I’ve always felt like the odd one out in this industry. Fellow models often exclude me from their social circles and tight-knit bubbles, poking fun at my height and gossiping about mypersonal life, claiming I was only given this opportunity because I married a highly respected agent. “That’s extremely flattering,” I respond, squaring my shoulders. “Tell him I said thank you.”

Trevor snatches a champagne glass off a server’s tray, handing it to me. “Your Instagram presence is impressively lacking, but I can help you there. I had a blue tick before everyone had one.” Sucking down another sip of his neon-swirled cocktail, he eyes me over the rim of the glass. “But that face is a real money-maker. The hair, the eyes, the bone structure. Who does your hair, by the way?” He flicks it with two fingers.

An awkward laugh falls out. “Allison James.”

“Never heard of her.”

“She’s my best friend.”

His face sours. “Well, it was great to finally meet you. I need to make the rounds and flirt my way into somebody’s good graces,” Trevor chirps, chugging the rest of his drink. “Keep in touch, Criss Cross Applesauce. Here’s my card.” He pulls a business card from the front pocket of his suit jacket and slips it into my hand. “Also, let me know if you see a rogue ferret getting into trouble around here. She likes to chew through leather handbags—specifically Prada. Goes by the name of Sprinkles.”

I watch him skip away, an amused frown gathering between my eyes as I spin the champagne stem between my fingers and stick the card under my garter to join my phone. As I take a sip, a warm hand presses along the small of my back, pulling my focus to the right. I instantly light up like a starlit sky. “Jasper.”

He grins, snaking both arms around my waist and pulling me to him, his chest flush with my back. “Mmm. You smell divine.”

“I smell like whatever that guy was wearing.” I’m still choking on cologne fumes.

Chuckling, Jasper nuzzles his face into my tamed hair—an endeavor that took over an hour to straighten without Allison’s help—and drags his nose down the length of it, until it’s buried in the crook of my neck. “Is my girl making connections?”

I shiver at the contact. “Inelegantly.”

“You looked like a pro from where I was standing,” he murmurs, kissing my shoulder as we start to sway. “Graceful. Classy. Sexy as fuck.”

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