Page 159 of Between the Blue
I look at her for a few moments, letting the thought process. “That might be some of the most helpful advising you’ve given me, Tiffany.”
“Hey,” she points at me. “I saidoff the record. Now, go. Get to your game. And tell Bennett James I say hi.”
It’s been over a month since Bennett James and I have said more than a few words to each other, and in the last few weeks, I’d say we’re at the level of full-blown avoiding one another. But, regardless, I tell her, “Sure thing.”
I blow out a heavy breath as I take a step back, putting my hands on my hips and surveying my work.
I scan over all of the varying options of pink and red accessories I’ve laid across the table, from ties to sunglasses and feather boas to glittery heart tattoos. I think the guys will be in for a real treat. And so will our social media followers.
I check the time on the clock on the wall, and see that I’ve got a couple of minutes to spare before the guys should start showing up for the game.
Before he’ll show up.
I reevaluate the backdrop one more time, making sure everything is in its place. I just finish straightening out the black tinsel and tweaking the pink clouds when I hear a door open and the sound of cameras going off.
I take my time, finishing what I’m doing before slowly turning around.
I already knew he’d be there, but it doesn’t ease the annoying fluttering feeling I always seem to get in my chest when I see him.
Ben is looking down at the table, his finger running over the options of ties.
“Had a feeling I’d be walking into something like this today,” he says.
I take a few steps closer to him.
“Gonna fight me on it?” I ask.
He raises his head and looks me up and down in that way he always does. And then he surprises me, reaching up and loosening the black tie around his neck.
“Not this time,” he says. “How do you want me, Cherry?”
I purse my lips. “I think the pink tie would be nice on you.”
He finishes taking off his tie and holds out his hand for the shiny pink one I’m referring to. He slips it on quickly, tying it easily without even looking at what he’s doing. Like it’s something he could do in his sleep. He continues to scan the table as he does so, then reaches for one of the shiny little tubes sitting amongst it.
He spins it around between two of his fingers, meeting my gaze. “Lipstick?” he asks.
I shrug. “I was thinking for little smears. Kiss marks, maybe.”
The space between Ben’s brows creases. “You think I need those?”
I think for a moment, then answer honestly. “I think it’d make a good picture.”
He holds the lipstick out to me.
I glance between his eyes and the tube. “What do you want me to do with that?”
“You’re the professional,” he says.
I take the lipstick, motioning with my head for him to go stand in front of the backdrop.
He does, and I follow him, stopping to check the camera on the tripod and making sure it’s ready to go.
And then I walk up to him, uncapping the lipstick and rolling it up in the tube. I stare down at the bright pink pigment, gently swiping my thumb over it.
When I look back up at Ben, he’s already looking at me, his hands in his pockets and his body seeming to lean into me. I raise my hand, pausing for a moment to see if he'll stop me. When he doesn’t, I rub my thumb along his lower lip, smearing the lipstick off the corner of his mouth. I find my touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary, then clear my throat, dropping my hand.
“There you go,” I say.
