Page 57 of Inked in Bloom
“Makeup can be pretty magical.” I smirk, and finish undressing.
One of my former clients was a ballerina who taught me a few things about stage makeup and covering up scars. I was able to snag some at Kendrick’s school for when they put on shows. It took a lot of trial and error to color match the right shade of pink, but you can’t see the ink beneath.
I release a shaky exhale. Despite him not being in my line of sight, Briar’s attention on me is warm as the sun and he’s just as dangerous to look at. I can’t allow my nerves to show in front of him.
Visions of my clients, Beth, Richard, my grief group—all the people who need me—shuffle through my mind like a deck of cards. Each face carries an ache, a longing to watch over and help them however I’m able. If I could do that, maybe I’d be more open to embracing this new existence.
A tear streaks my cheek, and I swipe it away with my palm. Closing my eyes, I wiggle my nose, and the world becomes colder.
Wider.
I shrink down, down,down.
My ears flop at my sides, and I blink up at Cherri who’s bending down and quietly applauding. “I didn’t know you’d been practicing.”
I have been for weeks, but nothing’s happened.
“You’re so cute!” Cherri coos. There’s no mirror to see what I look like, so I take her word for it.
Before this lucky moment slips away, I wiggle my nose again, and with apop, I’m tripping over my feet. My head hurts, dizzy with the rapid shift. I’m about to collide with the floor, but strong hands sweep under my shoulders and hoist me up. I stare at the rose gliding across Briar’s knuckles and then finally work up the courage to meet his lavender gaze. However, he’s not looking at me. He’s staring at my boobs, which are on display because I’m completely naked.
It’s probably not a good sign I’m very okay with that.
His brows bunch and he clears his throat, making sure I’m stable and standing fully upright.
“Well done,” Briar says, the praise filling my chest with sunshine. I did it.Finally.
He steps back, and I don’t miss the bulge beneath his jeans. The memory of inked vines along his shaft appears in my mind, and the air around me sweetens.
I spin quickly and I’m back in my outfit from earlier. Something brushes against my skirt. “Wha?—”
“You didn’t fully shift back,” Cherri says, glancing upward.
I slide my hands back into my hair, bumping into the bases of my ears. Long, floppy white-and-gray ears.
Fuck my life.Or rather, myafterlife.
Everyone is staring at me, either in shock or pity. Disliking both expressions equally, I wiggle my nose once, twice, three times, refusing to panic in front of them.
“Back to practicing, everyone.” Briar shoots them all a warning glare from beneath his spectacles. “Cherri, why don’t you join the group over there?” He gestures toward Dani and Skylar.
“Come get me if you need me,” she says, heading to the corner where Skylar and Dani are taking turns timing how quickly they can shift in and out of their forms.
Must be nice.
The last thing I want is my peers believing I’m incapable.Still. I furrow my brows and keep trying, ignoring Briar, who’s lounging atop a desk, hands clasped, watching me. After about ten more attempts, I give up and plop onto the floor, resting my back against the window.
“Class dismissed.” Briar’s lavender stare pierces mine, making it clear that I’m not included in that command.
“I’ll wait outside for you,” says Cherri, squeezing my shoulder.
Once the last harbinger is out the door, I turn toward my professor.
“I know you don’t want my help, Dr. Tanner.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” The words are clipped and sharp as thorns, a warning meant to keep him at a distance. But he doesn’t retreat. He sits on the desk and waits.
The heat of embarrassment spreads through my chest. “I know I need to be able to do this to join in this spring.”
