“I know. Your brothers said I could.”
“Those assholes—”
“Know how to have fun. Now, is there something you actually need?”
“Use common sense when you make your way home,” I grumbled and then winced at my words.
“Steven”—she emphasized his name—“is a gentleman, Jett. He’ll make sure I get home safe if and when I want to go home.”
“Let me know if the night’s as enjoyable as it is with me.”
“Already is.”
“Don’t lie, Pixie.”
There was silence for a beat, and I knew I’d struck a chord. I heard a breath of defeat leave her. “I’m trying to enjoy this, Jett. Is that so bad?”
“If you really need him to be happy, then no. It isn’t bad. I don’t know that you need him though.”
“I need someone,” she whispered.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Something about Victory Blakely was broken. I heard it in the brief whispers and glimpses of her reality she let me see. She hid it so well that she was the chameleon blending into everyone’s entertainment. I found myself drawn to those broken parts, the beautiful jagged edges she didn’t want the world to acknowledge. “All right, Pix. Make sure that someone deserves you.”
I hung up. I let the idea of her go.
Because I knew I didn’t deserve her.
19
Vick
“Brey,you have to have some costume that will work better than that.”
Full disclosure: I’ve dressed up year after year for Halloween. If I didn’t have a friend throwing a party, we found someone who did. If somebody didn’t have a costume, I conjured one up. If someone wasn’t excited, I hyped up the party.
Halloween let you be someone else for the night. You could hide behind a mask or expose yourself with the mask. The possibilities were endless.
“I’m a black cat.” Brey looked at me and shrugged.
“You are wearing a black dress and ears! And I know for a fact that dress wasn’t purchased as a costume.”
Brey smoothed back some of her long dark hair. She did that every time she was uncomfortable. “I just don’t want to wear anything weird when it’s a work party.”
I slumped a little as I looked at all the costumes laid out on my bed. “I hate that everyone will toe the line because Jett is a tight ass and this is a work party.”
She nodded and eyed my outfits like they were bombs. In her defense, most were extremely revealing or outrageous.
“I’m being Tinker Bell,” I stated, and her eyes bulged. “Oh, come on, Brey. It’s not that bad.”
“It’s a work party, Vick.”
“You’re wearing my Catwoman leotard.”
“Absolutely not.” She shook her head. “I’m way shorter and wider than you.”
“You’ll look hot. Just try it on.”
She sighed because she knew I wouldn’t let her out of at least trying it on. She snatched it and went to change as I slid out of my tank and jeans to shove on the green leafy bra that connected to a sequined corset and skirt. I had been smaller when I’d bought it two years ago. Now, I filled out the costume and was fully aware I was stepping over a work line.