Page 60 of Power Play Pursuit

She shoots me a confused look. “Yeah. Is that a problem? Did you—”

“No, no,” Iblurt out, forcing a smile. “That’s great. Is it far from here?”

“Only a few blocks. It looks good in the pictures, but you know how it goes. I’ll know when I see it.”

I nod. “Do you want me to come along?” I ask, trying to not sound desperate, when what I really wanted to say was, ‘Please, can I come with you?’

“Oh.” She averts her eyes, her cheeks flushing pink. “If you want to, yeah.”

“Never hurts to have an extra pair of eyes. I’ll be there.” I smile, my shoulders relaxing.

“Thanks.” She glances at me, then brings her eyes back to her products. “Okay, let’s start with a deep cleanse. Your pores are definitely clogged.”

“My what?” My forehead creases.

She chuckles, then starts explaining what pores are and how we’re going to unclog them. She’s so passionate as she shares her skincare knowledge, and I’m really enjoying listening to her. We wash our faces with soft cloths and apply various cleaning products, including a gel with little grains in it, while massaging the skin using specific movements. Then, we rinse them off.

“Here,” she says, handing me a tissue.

I stare at the piece of tissue as if it’s an alien being.

“Place it on your face, like this,” she says, demonstrating by placing the tissue over half her face and pressing down before doing the other side. “It’s to dry out the excess water.”

I do as I’m told, and when we remove the tissues, she unscrews a couple of bottles. “All right, now—”

“Wait, isn’t it over yet? My skin has never felt so clean,” I tease.

She breathes a sigh. “I told you this was long overdue. We’ve deep cleansed. Now, our skin is ready to receive treatments for lasting results. I’m thinking a charcoal mask for you, since your T-zone is a bit shiny, and I need hydrating.”

“My T-zone isn’t shiny,” I huff. “It’s fine, whatever it is.”

She laughs, the addictive sound making my heart jolt. “Thisis your T-zone.” She traces her finger over her forehead and down to her chin, forming the letter T, and my mouth opens to form an “O.” She continues, “An oily T-zone is totally normal. We’ll be careful over your nose, but it should be fine. First, let’s make sure your hair doesn't get in the way.” She grabs a pink headband and hands it to me.

“What am I supposed to do with this thing?” I ask, glaring at the hair accessory.

“Put it in your hair like this,” she says, sliding one onto her head until her hair is trapped underneath it.

“So, you’ve decided to completely rip my masculinity apart tonight. Is that the goal?” I give her a pointed look, and she bursts into laughter.

“Come on. It’d take more than a pink headband to undermineyourmanliness.”

I grin at her words before putting it on. She knows how to boost a guy’s ego.

“Okay, I’m going to start on your mask. Stay still. It might feel cold.”

Dipping her fingers into a white cream, she applies the mask on my face in smooth motions. The way her soft fingers feel against my cheeks electrifies my body.

“Stay still,” she repeats. “Or I’m going to poke you in the eye.”

I open my eyes wide. “Crab, okay.”

She keeps going, and I can tell she’s being extra careful when she reaches my nose. Her touch, combined with the chill of the cream, is surprisingly soothing.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

“No,” I breathe out. “Quite the contrary. It’s nice.”

“Okay,” she says after a while. “I’m done. I’ll apply mine, and then we can let it sit for about twenty minutes.”

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