13. Andi
Andi
“This is such a terrible dress,” Cleo mutters, running a hand through her pink hair before helping me fully unlace the corset.
We’re in the handicapped stall at the back of the bathroom. She and Juno are helping me hide the phone. It almost feels like they’re preparing me for battle.
Juno holds the dress as I step out of it and carefully throws it over the top of the stall. I hold an arm over my chest, a little self-conscious that I’m only wearing panties in front of the two younger sisters of one of the men I’m interested in, but they don’t make a big fuss about it.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Cleo says, digging through the makeup storage box one of them brought and pulling out a roll of boob-tape. “It’s super pretty, but the material is atrocious!”
“It’s pretty bad,” I say with a huff.
“Terrible to sit in. Scratchy. Ridiculously tight with the corset. Overall, it must be miserable to wear,” Juno, the calmer twin, says.
“You can say that again,” I nod.
Their dresses look far more comfortable, but no less stylish. Juno is in a deep midnight blue silk slip dress with an embroidered decolletage area, highlighting the pale skin of her collarbones and shoulders, in the way that a lot of trendy omega styles these days do.
Cleo is in a nude dress of sable and satin that cinches at the waist and drapes outwards in textured cuts with organza and lace panels strategically placed throughout. It’s a stunning piece, but it really draws attention to the brightness of her hair.
“You guys look so pretty in your dresses,” I murmur, suddenly feeling extra self-conscious that I’m practically naked. “I wish... I wish I could wear things that look good and aren’t simultaneously torture devices.”
“When our brother gets you outta here,” Cleo says, her expression going uncharacteristically serious. It highlights just how similar the two look, if you ignore Cleo’s peach-pink hair.
“Yeah,” I nod, swallowing hard past the lump in my throat.
She said when. Not if. I don’t think she understands how big a deal that distinction is to me.
The current plan is to tape the burner phone to my body, right along the side of my stomach, underneath where the corset compresses the most. There’s nowhere to really hide a phone this size, and the last thing we need is for Ezra and me to be separated before I get locked away in my room again, before he has a chance to get it to me.
The original plan was for him to try to snap photos and collect evidence before I got ready, but he never had an opportunity to be alone in that room with me.
It explains a bit of why he was so upset tonight.
I’ve been meaning to talk to him about it, but to be honest, I’d much rather soak in Cameron’s comfort than feel on edge around Ezra, even if he is stressed out for my sake.
“Thank you for helping me with this, by the way,” I mumble, standing straight as Juno presses the phone to my skin while Cleo tugs a strip of tape off the roll.
It’s essentially a thick roll of bandage material.
Because of the boning of the corset and how sturdy it is, the outline of the small touchscreen burner phone shouldn’t show.
“Of course!” Cleo says, her bright grin back in place.
“We’ve never seen Ever this...” Juno trails off, wincing slightly.
“Bat-shit insane?” Cleo pipes up.
“I was going to say concerned, but that works too.”
The easy conversation and casual mention of how Everett’s doing has my heart stuttering in my chest.
“Is he... okay?” I ask.
The twins share a pointed glance at each other, and some form of unspoken communication passes between them.
“You can tell me. Please—I know—I just... I just want to know.”
“You deserve to know,” Cleo says with a determined nod, finishing taping the phone to my stomach.
It feels a little strange, but it’s far from the most uncomfortable thing I’ve had to endure.
I’m just lucky they make omega-safe adhesives because our skin is far more sensitive than the average beta’s.
“We’re just... worried,” Juno murmurs, turning and lifting my dress from the top of the stall. “You have enough on your plate for the next couple of days. You don’t need to worry about our brother or the rest of your pack.”
“But...” I trail off, the words dying in my throat.
“But you’re still worried about them, right?” Cleo says, her expression softening.
“Yeah,” I nod.
Juno holds out my dress and I step into it, trying to suppress the shiver that runs down my spine at the feel of the rough fabric scratching my skin.
“They’re all so lucky to have you.” Cleo starts gently pulling the strings of the corset. Her hands are far kinder than Camille’s were when she laced me in earlier tonight. “Ever’s been... hanging in there. He’s been managing everything with the lawyers and stuff.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen him like this before,” Juno adds, reaching into the makeup storage box and pulling out supplies to help touch me up. “He puts up a good front, but I think this whole situation has been eating him up inside.”
Her honesty contrasts with Cleo’s attempt at reassurance. Their words together paint a better, fuller picture of what’s going on in my absence.
“I’m sorry,” I say automatically.
“Why’re you apologizing? Girl, you’ve got literally nothing to apologize for,” Cleo huffs.
I brace myself as she tightens the laces enough that I can feel the press of the phone against my skin.
“I don’t know if I’m worth the trouble,” I mumble.
“Everett doesn’t do anything that isn’t worth his time,” Juno says, her hand hovering above my face with a makeup sponge with a foundation tone that’s surprisingly close to the stuff I use on myself. “And he obviously thinks you’re more than worth it.”
“Oh.” I swallow hard past the lump in my throat, fighting back the burn of tears.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
I’ve been dressed and had my makeup done by plenty of people, but there’s something intimate about sharing this experience with Cleo and Juno in this bathroom stall, hiding away from anyone on Gina’s team.
“Thank you for doing this for me, you guys... You didn’t have to.”
“You say that a lot,” Juno hums, continuing to work on my makeup.
“Girl, I’ve been wanting to meet you ever since you were first pictured with Beck.
I was so curious about what was going on!
And then when Ever started being all cagey about you, I knew there was something more happening,” Cleo giggles.
The mischievous grin she flashes me completely transforms her face.
Cleo and Juno have an elegance in their features that must be genetic, considering Everett is their older brother. But while Juno leans into it, there are flashes of bright, unbridled energy that practically explode out from Cleo.
They both have two different brands of honesty. It’s refreshing.
“Yeah,” I say, my lips quirking up automatically, faced with Cleo’s own bright smile. “It’s all... new. We didn’t really have a chance to thoroughly talk about it before... you know.”
I wave down at the torture device of a dress. At myself. At this whole situation.
“Hey, that just means his plan to get you out better work!” Cleo says. “We should totally hang out when it does.”
Something in my chest twists at the seemingly genuine offer. It’s a warm spark that blooms outwards, almost like I just took a shot of hard liquor.
I’ve never been good at making friends, but I’ve historically been especially bad at making girlfriends. Probably because I never had healthy female friendships modeled for me as a child. Gina has exactly zero.
Even the co-stars on her reality show, her fellow omegas featured in The Real Omegas of Beverly Hills aren’t really her friends, even if it appears that way on camera. I’m pretty sure they all hang out off-camera without her.
Not that I blame them.
I wouldn’t willingly hang out with my mom either. Especially if the camera is off and her normal, venomous side comes out.
“I’d... really like that,” I say, past the lump in my throat.
“Okay, all done,” Juno says, stepping back with a nod. “Pretty sure I matched the look you had when you first came in.”
She holds out one of the small powder compact with a mirror, and I glance at myself.
“Wow,” I breathe out. “Yeah, this is great. Thank you.”
“Isn’t she hella good?” Cleo says. “I try to convince her to do my show makeup when our schedules match up.”
“More like you annoy me until I cave,” Juno huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. There’s a look of true and genuine affection there that makes me pause.
Seeing the two of them interact makes sisterhood look like a beautiful experience. Is this what family is supposed to be like?
“Okay, we should make sure you get back,” Juno says, turning back to me and opening the door to the stall.
The balls of my feet and toes are screaming at me with every step as I make my way back to the powder room. Cameron’s gaze finds me instantly.
“Do I look okay?” The question comes out small, and I instantly hate how obvious it is that I’m seeking validation.
That type of vulnerability means you’re opening yourself up for rejection. Making someone aware of the fact that you want to hear a certain answer, giving them ample ammunition against you.
But that’s the kind of thinking born from being in Gina’s orbit.
Cameron’s expression just softens as he smiles at me, standing from his seat on one of the armchairs.
“Yes, of course. More than okay.” He takes a few steps towards me until I can pick up my own perfume on him from where I scent-marked him earlier.
The thought of the others being able to smell me on him when he sees them again makes my inner omega purr.
That pride overrides any disappointment I have over not being able to soak in his smoky cedarwood scent.
“Even when I look like... you know...” I purse my lips together, glancing at myself in the gilded mirrors against the wall. I know how much I’ve changed, appearance-wise, in the past month. And I hate it. I don’t look like myself.
“I would still think you look beautiful no matter how you look,” he murmurs.