Page 6 of Two Wrongs
I’m tired of imagining his mouth full of another’s. Tired of asking myself what he’s doing now and who he’s with. All this—the tears streaming down my face and the pain in my chest—and I still can’t tear my eyes from the screen. Of how I push back against him, his movements suddenly tight and almost jolting. Of the camera’s focus suffering, its audio filled with his guttural growls and my cursing as we both come, grinding and drawing the very last drop of pleasure from the other.
The screen goes blank, immediately loading from the beginning again, with the absolute best part of the scene lost. Something so beautiful and personal, I know it’d rival any money shot. I can recall the tiniest detail of how he slides out, semi-hard still, pulling me flush against him. He turns me, and with one touch of the camera, we’re suddenly a smiling and satisfied selfie. He pulls me tight to his chest, wrapping his arm around my waist. And then we turn to each other, and we laugh. We kiss.Oh God, how we kiss.
I don’t need the frames to see it. I know it all by heart—it’s set in stone there. It’s indelibly inked inside my head. And the fact I’ve lost it all now; well, that’s where the bitterness begins.
Chapter Three
Ivy
Saturday morning Finstill isn’t home. I hope she hasn’t forgotten she’s working the front desk this morning. It’s going to be manic—both Natasha and I have back-to-back appointments. Please let her be late rather than a no-show. The last thing I need is to worry about her today.
I get downstairs to the salon, but the lights are on, so I guess Natasha has already arrived. As I turn the corner, I see she has... in all her sparkling glory. Black jeans that are more holes than legs and a silver button-down that might be better described as abutton off,as in, the buttons are open so low, it may as well not be fastened at all.She’s going to be really cheesed when I hand her the new uniform.The tunics arrived by courier just after closing last night; black with mandarin collars and the salon name embroidered in gold thread.Emporium.
I’m expecting... resistance. And hoping that adding her name and managerial title will be an antidote to a full day of pouting.
‘Hey, what are you up to?’ Elbows propped on the reception counter, Nat turns her head as I speak. I can see she has her phone in her hands. Again. ‘Is that thing superglued to your palm?’
‘Morning to you, too,’ she says, turning back to the screen. ‘Did your wand charger go flat?’
‘What?’
‘Oh, well. I know what to get you for your birthday.’
I choose to ignore her muttering. ‘You’re here bright and early.’
‘The coffee here’s better than the instant stuff from the café. Or home. I thought I’d come in and check on my peeps while sipping a latte in peace.’ She peers pointedly at me over her shoulder, but I just laugh. I don’t really care what she’s up to so long as she isn’t watching my secret sex tape again. I’d deleted it from my history last night after deciding it was unhealthy to dwell. I’m also taking comfort in the fact that only two people know that bum belongs to me. I suppose I just have to accept the fact that, for whatever reason, it’s out there now.
For the world to see.
‘What have you got there?’ I gesture to the pad of paper and pen by Natasha’s elbow.
‘I’ve been working on a formula for optimal beard length in relation to attraction.’
‘Dare I ask why?’
Nat shrugs. ‘I got here early, and my phone was flat. I had to do something to keep myself occupied.’
‘Fair enough,’ I answer, half laughing. ‘Let’s hear this list then.’
‘Well, first off, the test subject is me.’
‘You don’t say.’
‘So the preferences are all mine.’
‘Uh-huh.So therefore, the preferences are weird.’ Beards are so not my thing.
‘I started with sexy stubble because that’s a given. When am I no’ gonna give that level ofbilfa go?’ she asks rhetorically. At least, I hope so. And at least, this time, I don’t need to ask her to quantify exactly what abilfis.
‘A beard you’d like to fondle?’
‘Top of the class,’ she answers back.
‘Please, do continue.’ I make an exaggerated flourish with my hand.
‘So second is sexy pirate,’ she says. ‘Because I am a bit partial to Captain Jack—’
‘Captain Morgan, more like.’
