Page 38 of Mr. Picture Perfect
“You’re still fidgeting.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, out of breath. “I’m … not used to this whole makeup thing, I guess.”
“No one is. It’s unnatural and smells bad. Just sit still.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, attempting to relax.
The next second, I’m worked up again. “Why did I have to go and do that to him?”
Mindy sighs. She couldn’t care less. “Do what to who?”
“I mean, he said he wanted a guy who takes the lead, right?”
“Sure, I dunno.”
“He was giving me all the signs. All day. I thought he itched for it as much as I did. Was I wrong? Did I misread?”
“Cole…”
“Sorry.”
I take a breath. The lights from the makeup counter make me feel like I’m sitting in an oven. Why does there have to be thirty thousand of them? Not to mention all the scalding lights set up for the shoot itself. I already have back sweat. Do all models have to suffer like this? Apparently the real bane of any model’s job isn’t nerves, critics, or calories. It’s fucking light bulbs.
And then I go off again. “Couldn’t he have said something in response, at the very least? How could he leave me hanging after I showed the very confidence he said he wanted so badly? Instead … he just … took off … left me there like an idiot with my dog.”
“You have a dog?” asks Mindy.
“I couldn’t sleep a wink last night, not a wink.”
“I wanted a dog,” she murmurs morosely. “Joel says since his childhood dog passed, he refuses to get another …”
“I’m actually agoodguy, too. I wasn’t trying to scare him off. I think I’m exactly the kind of guy he’s looking for.”
“… something about not wanting to ‘replace’ his dog …”
“Or at least I hope I am. I would never dream of harming him. All these years, I wanted to protect him. To make him feel safe. To just … keep him company.” I grimace. “Now I think I might have ruined it all for good. He might never talk to me again.”
Mindy pulls something out of the makeup kit on the counter. “You’re going to want to close your mouth now. Powder time.”
I’m about to say something else, but the powder puff silences me at once as Mindy pats it all over my face, setting the makeup.
I close my eyes, too, which leaves me with just my thoughts—and an image of the last look Noah gave me before he ran away. What were his exact words? “I need to go home and organize my books,” I think they were. But he might as well have said, “I need to go home and masturbate my books,” for as dazed as I was after that kiss.
And boy, was it ever a kiss. I felt everything the second I put my lips on his. The years of wanting to be his companion. All of that time spent pining and wondering and feeling curious.
The glances across cafeterias.
The dreams when I was alone in my bed at night.
I felt electricity in my veins while our lips were connected. It was unlike anything I have ever felt in my life. It might be a small amount of guys I’ve kissed in my life, but I already know that the kiss Noah and I shared cannot be rivaled by any one of them.
I was fucking done for.
Then the kiss ended.
I barely pulled away, just enough to get a good look into his eyes—and for one fleeting second, I saw bliss on Noah’s face.
Happiness.
