Page 116 of Jerk
A growl escapes me anyway. “I’ll show you something real big.”
“Ew,” Krystal’s voice distracts me as she walks into the pool house. “Stop it and stare.” She places her hands on her hips. “How do I look?”
“No.” I’m quick to respond, her outfit stifling the desire in me.
“Don’t do that,” Krystal groans, giving me the look she gives our parents when they’re being unfair. She’s the one waltzing in here in a red velvet corset and lace suspenders. Sure, she has a long robe on, but it’s open, revealing way too much.
“No,” I repeat.
“She’s beautiful.” Hannah walks over to her, straightening something on her dress. She fixes her hair, smiling at her in a way my mother never would.
“Give her something else,” I say.
“It’s my collection,” Hannah says. “She wears it.”
I’ll admit the outfit looks incredible, something you’d see in a Parisian lingerie store. But still. “Remember what I did to Vince?”
“Well, I doubt Vince is here,” Hannah says. She turns to the row of chairs and mirrors set up to the side. Her posse sits in each one, getting their hair and makeup done to perfection.
The entire pool house is a backstage fashion show cliche with scattered racks of fabric, boxes of shoes, makeup and hair supplies. Hairspray combines with the pungent smell of nail polish and burnt hair, but all I want to smell is her.
“I wouldn't be surprised," Krystal says. ‘Have you seen the place? The garden’s never been this full.”
Hannah's eyes widen. “And I’m so behind.” She turns away from Krystal, grabbing a pair of scissors before rushing towards Zurie. She’s in a playsuit Hannah designed, a sinful combination of dark red leather and lace. “Ten minutes!”
It's hard to take my eyes off her, in her element like she’s done this a thousand times. She keeps her poise, but I see a falter in her facade when she whips her head back to Krystal.
“Did you just sayfull?” Hannah rushes to the curtain-covered sliding doors where I stand. "Holy shit," she mutters. Glancing back, she calls to the room. “Nine minutes!”
Taking a look behind the curtain with her, the place is even fuller than when I slipped in. I recognize faces from campus, bodies dressed in their own interpretations of hedonistic attire. All crimson. They crowd the stage we set over the pool, and I can feel the anticipation, the buzz stretching across the yard. We covered the pool in plexiglass, making it a stable runway. Then we decorated the area with dark red roses and candles. It looks stunning as the sun starts to set.
“Krystal’s right," she whispers. Hannah’s body stiffens, and I can tell something’s up, even if she won’t admit it. “It’sreallypacked.”
“Oh, Kitten.” My hand wraps around her. Pulling her close, I can feel her heartbeat against my chest. “You already have them. Save those nerves for when you need them.”
“Places!” Someone calls from inside the room. Everything shuffles, Hannah’s models moving towards the door in their delicate outfits.
“You got this, Hannah!"
“This is going to be great!”
“I’m so excited!”
The girls all give her words of encouragement as they file out of the pool house and take their places behind a velvet curtain in front of the stage. The makeup artists and other helpers follow behind them, wishing Hannah the best.
“This is really happening,” Hannah whispers, her focus still on the crowd.
“Look at them wearing you, walking foryou.” Taking the scissors out of her hand, I press the blades against her skin. I feel her breath stop. “Relax. There’s nothing to worry about except what I’m about to do to you.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
HANNAH
“You can’t be serious.”
“Try me.” His words land on my neck, a tremble ripping through me.
The hum of the crowd goes silent as the spotlight hits the stage.
