His nose brushed mine. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“I’m busy,” I replied.
“You’re not running away.”
“No.” I jutted out my chin. “I’m actually busy tomorrow. I have a job.”
He blinked. “Modeling?”
“Yes.”
“When will you be done?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m going to see you.”
I pushed against him, but he wouldn’t budge. “I’ll think about it.”
He cupped my jaw and touched his lips to mine. I bit him, but not hard. I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt him. He laughed at my nip, and I wished I’d bitten him harder.
“I’m going to see you,” he repeated more firmly.
I sighed, so tired of fighting. “You hurt me, Adam. You really, really hurt me. If we stand a chance of repairing anything between us—”
“You just said there’s a chance.” He gave me a hard, quick kiss. “I heard it. You said it. You’re not taking it back. Unlock your door and go inside. Don’t say another word. Those were perfect.”
The irony was, I had been about to tell him he needed to listen if we stood a chance. But this was better. I needed space and time to process everything and having him here, touching me, kissing me, buying me Plan B and gummy worms, only confused me. I liked those things so, so much, but I had no idea what they meant or what I wanted.
So, I went into my apartment, closed the door, locked all the locks, then I sat on my couch, my phone open to my security cam app, and watched Adam pace and stand vigil outside my door for the next ten minutes until he finally nodded to himself and disappeared down the stairs.
As soon as I saw my outfit for the day—G-string, pasties, body paint—I regretted the amount of gummy worms I’d eaten last night. I should have known it would be next to nothing, given I’d been pretty much naked when I modeled for this company last fall, but I’d been drowning out my thoughts with sugar. The makeup artist had patted my tummy before she’d started, telling me I'd have to suck it in for the pictures.
And this was part of the reason I’d quit modeling a couple years ago. I would have walked out right then and there if I hadn’t needed the money. City living didn’t come cheap, even with the change of zip code, and paying every single bill myself had been an eye-opener.
So, I stayed, sucking in my candy-bloated stomach and cursing everyone in my head. Adam for buying me gummy worms. The makeup artist for being a toxic bitch. The jewelry company for deciding body paint went best with their jewels. My dad for spoiling me so much, my first independent steps outside of his scope were brutal.
And obviously myself. I cursed myself the most.
Painted neck to ankle in silver, a necklace that looked much like a zipper was arranged between my breasts. With the paint and necklace combined, it gave the illusion I was being unzipped.
“Breathtaking.” The owner of the company, Anthony David, was supervising the shoot. He’d been a big fan of my mother’s, which was why he’d hired me. “Perfect, Adelaide.”
I winked at him to acknowledge his compliment. That was as much as I dared move on my own. After that, I zoned out, keeping still until the photographer gave direction otherwise. Each shift was microscopic as the photographer got in my face to capture details of the gems against my skin.
There was a commotion on the other side of the room. Someone had entered and was speaking to Anthony, but I was prone on the floor, so I couldn’t see who it was.
Then a shadow fell over me. I peered up into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.
Adam shot me a crooked grin as he stood next to the photographer, who clucked his tongue in disapproval. Anthony joined them, cutting off whatever protest the photog had been about to make.
“Isn’t she lovely?” Anthony cooed.
“She is. I’m partial to her natural skin, but silver might be second best,” Adam replied.
Anthony smiled. “Spoken like a man in love with his future bride.”
Disguising my gritting molars as a smile, I asked, “What are you doing here?”