Chapter 38
Brielle flicks her wrist and grunts while ripping the wax strip from my armpit.
“Tell me again why you stopped going to a professional for this?” she asks while I let out the breath I was holding.
The pain starts to fade, and I ready myself for her to slather more wax onto my flaming skin. I pull my arm back a bit more and press my bicep to my cheek.
“Because I haven’t had time. You know how I feel about shaving.”
The next gob of wax that she swipes over my armpit is only hot for a second before it starts to cool, and she sets the popsicle stick onto the countertop.
“So, you’re rocking a full bush?”
I roll my eyes. “No. I get laser for that the same way you do.”
“Do you ever regret it? Sometimes, I wonder if rocking a bush would help me realize which of the men I take home are worth the energy.”
“Are you expecting it to talk to you?”
“No. But I’ve learned that all of the small-pricked losers don’t like pubic hair on a woman. Personally, I think that if they have a jungle down there, we should be able to have one, too. Getting rid of our bushes feels pretty anti-feminist, the more I think about it.”
I choke on a laugh before she rips the wax off, and I start hissing instead.
“Okay, that arm’s done. Switch for me.”
The sensitive skin burns enough that I keep my arm up for a bit longer while baring the other side for her. She doesn’t look twice at the long hair before twirling more wax around a new stick.
“I don’t disagree with you,” I say, watching her work. “Men always hold our bodies to a higher standard than their own. We preen ourselves for their benefit all the time.”
“We should just marry each other. I wouldn’t judge you about your bush if you didn’t judge me for mine.”
“Think everyone would buy it?”
Waving her hand in front of the cooling wax, she smirks at me. “Totally. We’re both hot as fuck, and every queer couple is, too. I don’t make the rules.”
“That’s some genius thinking right there.”
“Yeah, I know. So, are you still single, or has Finn stolen you from me? Officially.”
My smile drops. Suddenly, sitting in silence feels like a much more intriguing way to spend my afternoon.
Brielle pulls the wax strip away, and I cry out this time when the hair gets yanked out. “Sorry. Consider that encouragement to get talking.”
“I don’t know how to answer that question right now,” I admit stiffly.
She arches her perfectly tweezed brows, hesitating to grab more wax from the melting pot set up on the vanity. “What does that mean?”
“It means I don’t know.”
“Yikes. That’s not what I was hoping for.”
Closing my eyes for a few seconds, I blow a piece of hair out of my face. When I open them again, Brielle’s still staring at me, but without all the judgment this time. I lower my first arm and grip the edge of my vanity stool.
“I think I fucked things up,” I mutter, looking past her at my reflection in the mirror.
“What happened?”
That’s a great question. I’ve been trying to pinpoint the exact moment I shoved my foot so far down my throat
that I’ve been tasting leather for the last three days, but there are too many careless words and statements to choose from.
Finn hasn’t texted me since he asked if I made it home safe after our fight Tuesday night.
I’ve kept to myself the rest of the week, unable to forget the betrayal in his eyes that came after I told him that he couldn’t be my date.
Over and over again since then, I’ve wished that I hadn’t said anything at all.
I’ve been put into a position multiple times in my life where I had to choose between my work and something or someone else.
If I chose wrong, I was selfish, and if I chose right, I spent my time away worrying about how far behind I’m going to get.
That comes from the trauma of listening to my mother guilt me for not texting and calling enough after I got my job at the firm that had me immediately on the defensive, but it was also fear. Plain and simple.
Because I know that despite how much I love my job, I’d give it up for Finn, and that isn’t just a scary thought. It’s paralyzing.
He’d be able to do something that I wouldn’t for anyone else, my blood relatives included. The power he holds over me seems to grow every day. It would be a waste of energy to try and fight it.
“You haven’t wondered why I’m not going to this ridiculous gala tonight with him?” I ask, my throat dry.
Brielle pulls the strip of wax I hadn’t felt her lay from my armpit and dumps it in the trash with the others. “Yes, but I was waiting to see if you’d talk to me about that on your own.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“I figured that,” she muses, rolling her mossy green eyes. “Who are you going with, then?”
“Asher.”
Her expression deadpans as she stares at me, as if to call my bluff. When I don’t take the bait, she leans in and huffs. “Why?”
“Because I’m an asshole.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Right now, that’s exactly what I am. Finn wanted to go with me, but I told him it would complicate things and that Spencer would make a big scene about it.
I came up with this stupid fucking lie weeks ago to try and win a battle I didn’t even want to be a part of in the first place, and it might have cost me my best friend. ”
“We’re talking about the boyfriend thing, right?
The reason why you were going on all of those ridiculous dates?
” she asks, easing my second arm down and then leaning her ass against the bathroom counter.
“I thought that was why you and Finn started going out in the first place, though. You shouldn’t regret it.
That guy isn’t going anywhere, Bree. He’s obsessed with you. ”
I nod, hating the fact that I even need to talk about this. “And that makes what I’ve done so much worse. I’m so goddamn stubborn that I couldn’t just call him and admit that I was wrong so that he should be the one coming with me.”
“Why haven’t you? He’d forgive you. Everyone says stupid things they don’t mean when they’re in a relationship. Especially a new one.”
We may be new to dating, but our relationship isn’t new, is what I want to say. I swallow those words.
“Because if I did, I may as well be admitting to him that he holds all the power between us. That if he told me I had to choose between being with him or keeping my job, I’d choose him.
I’d be doing exactly what my mother did, and I’d grow to resent him the same way I watched her hate my father all my life. ”
The confession burns. It sends heat zipping up from my chest to the backs of my eyes. Clarity is a cruel motherfucker, and I’m drowning in it.
“Hey, it’s okay, honey. You don’t have to be ashamed of that.
That isn’t the end of the world. You’re allowed to worry and have your own fears,” Brielle murmurs, in front of me again, her arms wrapping around my body.
“The difference is that Finn would never put you in that position. You’re giving him power, yes, but we both know that he’d do the same for you.
Neither of you would ever make the other choose.
You’re independent people, who have careers they love, but who love each other more. ”
I don’t realize my cheeks are wet until Brielle uses her soft hands to dry them, and I choke on a laugh. “Fuck me. I don’t cry.”
“You can with me,” she murmurs, smiling gently.
“I really made a mess of things.”
“And you have plenty of time to clean them up, whether that’s tonight or a week from now. But first, we need to depuff you. This is a gala you’re going to, after all.”
“Are you my fairy godmother now?” I snort, not feeling up for any sort of pampering.
“Oooh, I like that.” She stands to her five-foot-five height and flicks her red hair over her shoulders. “Come on. Do you have an ice roller or eye masks here?”
“I’ve got a roller in the freezer.”
I’m pretty sure it’s the one she got me for Christmas last year. I’ve never used it because I wasn’t exactly sure how it worked. I’ll know now, I guess.
“I think I heard somewhere that if you used one on your nipples, they’d get smaller,” she states before dipping out of the bathroom. The next thing I hear is her pulling the freezer drawer open. “Or maybe that was something else. I don’t remember.”
“I’ll take a pass on being your test dummy.”
“Your loss. But I guess Finn must like them the way they are, anyway. It’s best not to change anything yet.”
“Weren’t you the one that was talking about not changing our bodies for men?”
A pause before the drawer shuts. “You’re right. Fuck him. I’m sure your nipples are perfect the way they are.”
My laugh is loud as I slouch over my lap and shake my head.
Three hours later, I’m alone in my condo with my phone open to Finn’s contact. I hover my thumb over where I should be pressing down to call him, but I hesitate.
I’m chilled where I sit in the living room, with my red dress draped over the couch and my feet already tucked into my matching heels.
The expensive fabric feels like sandpaper on my skin as I adjust the bust and stare at my cleavage in the deep V.
It’s a beautiful dress, and for what I paid, it should be.
I wanted to wear something that I knew would draw eyes and make Spencer look like a complete chump when he approached me for the first time, but now, it just feels like a heavy weight I didn’t need.
Brielle spent an hour on my hair alone, curling small chunks of it only to pull it into a fancy bun at the base of my neck.
My diamond stud earrings go along perfectly with the necklace I found hidden at the bottom of my jewelry box this morning, never worn out of fear of losing it.
It was a graduation present from Finn that I swore I’d wait to wear when I made name partner at my first firm.
I didn’t know at the time that my first would hopefully be my last and that I’d already be a junior partner at twenty-seven.
I’m not sure what possessed me to put it on tonight, but I was too tired to deny myself. I run a finger over the curve of small diamonds and stare at my phone again, willing myself to call him. A knock on the door makes me jump.
I stand quickly before rushing to answer it, trying not to hope too hard that it’s—
Asher.
It’s Asher.
Adjusting his bow tie, the giant centre fielder stares at me with wide brown eyes.
He clears his throat harshly before dropping his hands and slipping them into the pockets of his black slacks.
I force a smile and give a quick once-over, realizing that he wore a tuxedo like I asked.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him so dressed up.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hi. I’m not late, am I?”
“No.” Pushing open the door, I step aside so he can come in. “You’re right on time.”
Why do I feel like I might puke?
Asher hesitates in the doorway, avoiding looking at me again. My stomach sours further when I start to worry I’ve made the wrong choice with this dress. If he doesn’t like it, does that mean Finn would hate it?
The black hair on his head has been trimmed and gelled back, and he’s even shaved his face so only a dark shadow remains over his chiselled jaw.
Guilt pricks at my sides when I realize that as handsome as he is and how deeply I appreciate his friendship and his agreement to accompany me to this event, I can’t go with him.
I pinch my lips together before prying them apart. “I need to go see Finn.”