Chapter Eighteen
Zahra
I picked out a light brown round-necked, short-sleeved shirt, coupled with soft cream-colored beige pants to go with it, for Elio. He was going to shock many people tonight, and while I would love to see that, I really wanted him to get out of his self-made comfort zone for a while.
I had spent three days and two blow jobs trying to convince this man to attend this event, not because I really, really wanted him there, but because almost everyone who was anyone was going to be there, and he was going to be stuck here alone when everyone was having fun, living their lives and enjoying it.
I wanted to show him that his concept of life being better only when predetermined wasn’t exactly ideal; I wanted to show him that it was okay to live for now and in the moment, and maybe I just needed him to loosen up so I could approach a topic I’d been finding difficult to discuss with him, given his very concerning ability to read me—I needed to get him off the ship without him suspecting anything.
Standing in front of the mirror in Elio’s dressing room, I examined my sleeveless thigh-length, emerald-green dress. I’d selected it mainly because it provided easy leg movement and was very simple. Nothing too flashy, just something attractive and appropriate.
The only problem now was my hair; I’d tried teasing it, curling it, and leaving it straight, but nothing seemed to work. I wished I hadn’t ignored the growing length and had done something about it.
I tried doing a short, low ponytail, but it would look awkward because it was long but not long enough to look pretty.
“Zahra, this is uncomfortable; it feels as though I am being strangled—”
I turned sharply after catching a glimpse of him in the mirror, and my jaw practically fell off.
“You look … lovely,” he told me, his gaze moving down the length of my body.
“And you look…” God, when I selected his outfit from the cruise boutique when Milk and I had gone to get clothes for this event, I’d had a visual of how he would look in it, but nothing could have prepared me for this.
The shirt and the pants hugged him, not too much, but just enough, his chest, his biceps, his arms, broad shoulders, torso, his perfect narrowed waist. The way his pants showed off his muscled thighs and perfect legs and the way the whole brown and cream seemed to mesh with his skin color, and the color of his eyes; it was fucking new …
Even though I had seen him in a white sweater before this, this was different.
Elio in regular clothing was a new kind of sexy I was not prepared for.
I returned my gaze to his face, which now held a frown. “I hope that look is you telling me I should go change—”
“Hell no!” I yelled, and I felt the force of my voice from my chest. “Change never.”
“What?”
I blinked, swallowing. “I mean, you look sexy. Very sexy, off-the-charts sex appeal, sex on legs, on strong, strong legs, very sexy material—” What am I saying?
“This is not decent, right?” He looked confused.
“It is very decent in a sexy kind of way. Definitely not professional,” I told him as I walked closer, his cologne melting my resolve.
He smelled so good. “But it’s liberty day, so, yes, you are wearing this to the event.
” Sucking in a breath, I ran my hands up and down his biceps, feeling him up as I muttered what was supposed to have stayed in my head.
“Lord, do I want to use this body … fuck me.”
“Now?”
I snapped my head up to look at him. “Oh no … I meant, uh … I was cursing myself because I am really appreciating you and your awesome, awesome body. Carved for me.” I smiled at him.
He watched me. “It was not technically carved for—”
“Shut up, just go with it,” I told him. “And please, you look good, like really good, like no-one-is-going-to-stop-staring-at-you good. You look like some mundane banker who frequents the gym and has a lovely girlfriend who he is loyal to.”
“Is there a hidden message there, somewhere?”
“Of course not.”
He nodded. “Thank you for saying I look good; I quite like the color, but I would have preferred something less—slinky. You are very flushed right now, querida.”
“All for good reasons.” I smiled. “But trust me, it is perfect and decent, but different, and it’s liberty night for you, so we’re going with it.”
“Liberty night is not a real thing.”
“I know, but it’s our thing now.” I smiled.
“Okay,” he responded, a light tone in his voice to show that he liked it. He liked “our” thing.
“Great, now I just gotta figure out what to do with my hair.”
His gaze moved to it, and then he raised his hands, his wristwatch glinting in the light as he brushed the wavy mess back. “Would you like my help?”
I raised a brow in inquiry. “Can you help?”
“Irrelevant question; I would not have asked if I couldn’t.”
“A simple yes, Elio, just a yes was all I needed.” Walking back toward the mirror, I groaned, and he followed behind me.
“Stop asking irrelevant questions, and I will stop giving irrelevant answers.”
“You’re too much.”
“I am not.”
“You always have to get the last word in, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do,” he said, pinning me down on the stool in front of the mirror.
I met his gaze in the reflection and smiled, and he returned it with a small one as his hands fell to my hair. “It’s longer than it used to be.”
“Yeah, I haven’t had the time to cut it.” My hair grew fast, and I always made sure to stick to my preferred length, but these past few months had been, well, too much.
“I like it like this. I like long hair,” he said.
“Well, good for you?”
“Will you let it grow more?”
“I most certainly do not plan to.”
I caught him nodding. “That’s a shame.” He met my gaze in the mirror, his hands falling from my hair. “Before I start, I have something for you.”
“What?”
He dipped a hand into his pocket, and I frowned, wondering what he was pulling …
My thoughts stopped as a silver necklace surfaced; it was shiny, with a butterfly pendant. My lips parted, but I didn’t utter a word. I couldn’t.
He got me a present?
He cleared his throat. “I got this the day you went to get your tattoo. It came in a small necklace case, and it was not very expensive because I could not go far after I left the car.” He cleared his throat again.
“Long story unnecessary, I could not find the right time to give this to you, but I reckon it would look good with your dress.”
I smiled, meeting his gaze again as I moved my hair out of the way. “Put it on me?”
He nodded, placing the necklace around my neck, and God, it was beautiful, and I knew then and there that I was never taking it off.
I touched the pendant once he had hooked it together.
“It’s beautiful, Elio.”
He placed his hands on my shoulders. “It is.”
“Thank you. I really love presents; I don’t get them often.”
“I see.”
I played with the pendant, the sparkly butterfly representing how fast my stomach was dancing and how wide my chest was swelling, as I secretly swooned, loving this gesture more than I should.
He got me a freaking present …
Wow …
I kept staring at him while he made do with his promise to style my hair; I couldn’t think straight at this point because something just clicked into place inside me.
He got me a present …
I smiled, but it slowly faded, my chest tightening with guilt.
Fuck.
The event was, well, massive. Golden light spilled from crystal chandeliers, catching on the rims of champagne flutes.
The air smelled of sugar and money, a mix of expensive champagne and rich chocolate cake that clung to the back of my throat and my tongue.
Laughter rolled through the room like static under music, the kind that made everyone sound a little wealthier than they were.
We’d been there for over three hours now.
As predicted, Elio had caught the eyes of many, especially Kareem, who was surprised and was talking at the top of his lungs, going into a monologue about how much Elio needed to start embracing other habits and life being too short to be so routine oriented.
Street and I had gotten our chance to speak with Kareem, and he had—as expected—taken a liking to Milk.
I spent half the time with Street while Elio had been with Casmiro, Angelo, and some other men I did not care to acquaint myself with.
Milk had gushed about the necklace, and I’d tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was—it meant a lot to me that he’d given me something so pretty—I felt special, and the gesture went to my head, toying with my emotions.
Another hour passed, and I observed my surroundings; people were everywhere, and familiar faces were scarce.
Another hour passed, and I asked Milk what the time said; it was almost midnight, and I stretched the stiff muscles in my neck—excusing myself from Street before seeking Elio.
I found him alone in a secluded area. It was quiet, the night sky directly showing in the open space behind him.
He was sitting there, observing, bored, probably irritated.
I almost felt guilty for leaving him to himself, but Street and I had engaged in our usual rating-people game, and it got rowdy when some group of guys and girls joined our table, and I lost myself in the sheer youthfulness of it all—mostly bracing myself for tonight.
He raised his gaze in my direction.
“Hey there, stranger.” I grinned, settling beside him on the soft white couch, pressing my body against his and breathing him in. His arm came around my shoulder.
“You left me alone,” he said.
“Sorry.” I kissed his jawline. “We had a full table, and I couldn’t leave because we had this game with some real cool-ass people, and Milk had been feeling sad about us not making enough girlfriends, and it was just fun … liberty night fun.” I grinned.
“What do I have to do to become a priority? One that comes before your friends.”
I laughed softly, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. “We have a long way to go till then, buddy. Where’s Cassie and Angie?”