Page 7 of Perfectly Imperfect Us
“Don’t leave on my account.” I took another step forward, admiring the way her bright pink shirt made her deep mahogany hair pop. She’d be a photographer’s dream out here, all vivid color against the natural backdrop.
A strange feeling crept back into my chest, this time accompanied by guilt for making her stop whatever she was doing. “Can I ask what you’re doing out here with your camera?” I recognized the model. It was a good one, rated well for not only photography, but also for video.
Ava sighed, finally stilling her hands, though she wouldn’t meet my gaze. “I’m shooting a video for my YouTube channel.” Her voice was so low I almost lost it in the breeze that kept the afternoon from being unbearably hot.
I stepped out onto the rock and lowered down until I was seated next to her, staring out at the sparkling ocean surface. It was difficult, but I managed to ignore the way I could catch a hint of her perfume when the wind buffeted in the right direction. It was dark and spicy, perfectly made for a woman like Ava.
“What’s your channel?”
I could feel Ava’s stare, like she was gauging my sincerity. I kept my breathing steady, observing the ocean, but really just trying to keep from startling the wild animal I sat next to.
“Ava A Beauty,” she finally said.
I slid my phone out of my back pocket and looked up her account. “Dang. A million subscribers?” I whipped my gaze to Ava, seeing her smile with pride. That wasn’t a hobby. That was the kind of channel making money off her videos. And I could see why if the first video was any indication. She looked like a professional makeup artist, her work both trendy, beautiful, and fresh.
She shrugged like it wasn’t a huge accomplishment.
I hit the subscribe button and smiled at her. “Make that one million and one subscribers.”
Her jaw dropped open. “You seriously followed me?”
I matched her shrug. “Yeah, of course. I’ve had tons of makeup artists work on me and good ones are hard to find. It’s truly an art form.”
She nodded enthusiastically, leaning in. “I’m so glad you understand that. So many men, and even women, think we just like to play with cosmetics, but it’s so much more than that.”
I pointed at my phone screen. “Like this video of yours on brushes. The brush can make or break the look, but most people would just blame the makeup when in actuality it could be the dollar store brush you’re using.”
Ava’s head tilted and her eyes roamed over me as they sparkled.
“What?” I asked, a flutter of nerves kicking up at her assessment. I’d had directors of magazine campaigns staring at me as I stood confidently in a tiny piece of cloth in front of a whole crew, but one assessing look from Ava set my heart thundering.
“I’m just…” She trailed off, looking down at her hands.
I nudged her with my knee, the personal contact enough to get her talking.
“I’m just wondering if I’ve misjudged you. You’re exactly right about the brushes. Invest in quality products and your end result will be drastically better.”
My lips tilted up even as I wondered what she must have thought about me to say she may have misjudged me. I could hazard a guess. Stupid model who’s full of himself. That’s the vibe everyone got, not from me, but from their preconceived notions of who a male model could possibly be on the inside.
I lifted my phone and tapped out a comment on her video. Something to the effect of agreeing with her and wishing all women understood the importance of quality brushes.
Ava leaned in hard, another waft of her perfume washing over me and drowning out the smell of the sea below us.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
I pulled away, deciding I liked this more playful side of Ava. You know, when she wasn’t yelling at me. “Don’t worry about it.”
Her phone dinged from the inside of the case behind her. She dug her phone out, her eyes narrowing at me. She flicked the screen to life and tapped it with her thumb a few times.
Her mouth opened again, her eyes firmly on her phone now. It gave me a chance to observe her up close. The way her dark eyebrows framed her hazel eyes. They weren’t quite green, but they weren’t straight-up brown either. Her skin was flawless and whatever highlighting thing she did around her cheekbone and eyes firmly placed her in the league of professional makeup artist to the stars.
She was a knockout.
“Holy Moses, you commented on my video?” Her wide hazel eyes lifted and I studied them in the sunlight, almost missing her words. “Are you sure you want to do that? That’s going to attract some attention.”
Her eyes were both green and brown, the outermost ring of her irises being green and the tiniest band of brown remaining around her pupils.
“Ryder?”
