I’m in love with Merci.
Chapter 22
Merci
"Hold still, you absolute disaster!" Eli swats at my hand as I make another grab for the eyeliner. "I swear to God, you're worse than Alexei after his third espresso shot."
I roll my eyes but force myself to stay put, trying to contain the nervous energy buzzing through my veins. "Sorry for being excited about my first real date. Like, ever."
"Wait, what?" Eli's hand freezes mid-stroke, his blue eyes going wide. "Never?"
"Not unless you count that time a client took me to Denny's before fucking me in his car." I shrug, trying to keep my tone light, but Eli's face falls. "Hey, no sad puppy eyes."
He nods while chewing his lip, a sign he’s either thinking or trying to keep quiet. Sometimes I forget that what seems normal to me is actually pretty fucked up to joke about. But dark humor is sometimes a way to cope.
"I'm just happy for you," Eli says softly, and fuck if the genuine warmth in his voice doesn't make my chest tight.
Standing, I check myself out in the mirror. Damn, Eli did a great job with the eyeliner. The black wings he added make my lavender eyes pop.
I take in the rest of my appearance, from my artfully tousled hair—thank you, expensive hair products—to the cropped purple hoodie that shows just enough abs to be tempting and the high-waisted leggings hug every curve like they were painted on. The shimmery fabric catches the light when I move, and the crystal necklace at my throat adds just the right touch of sparkle.
I turn to check out the view from behind, and yeah—my ass looks phenomenal. "I look good."
Eli giggles. "You really do. Zach's not going to know what hit him."
My phone buzzes, and I pick it up off the bed and unlock it.
Raiyne: How's the pre-date prep going, sugar tits?
Me: About to send you a pic. Try not to drool, ginger snap.
After tapping open the camera, I hand Eli my phone. "Take a picture for this thirsty bitch."
Eli laughs and snaps a few shots as I pose. We send the best pic to Raiyne, and he responds immediately.
Raiyne: FUCK ME SIDEWAYS. If Zach doesn't rail you tonight, I will.
Me: In your dreams.
Raiyne: Every night, baby.
It's weird having actual friends—people who genuinely care about me, who want to see me happy. Sometimes it feels like I'm living someone else's life. Even if I wanted to murder one of them two months ago for selling me out to Zach.
My phone buzzes again.
Zach:Here.
"That's my cue." I grab my phone and wallet, shoving them into a small backpack along with emergency supplies—lube, condoms, and breath mints—because I'm nothing if not prepared.
Eli jumps up and hugs me. "Have fun. And text me if you need anything."
"Yes, Mom," I tease, the corners of my mouth turning up at his genuine concern.
The February air hits me like a slap to the face when I step outside, though it’s quickly forgotten when I see Zach. He's sitting on the hood of his silver Koenigsegg CCX—because of course my stepbrother drives a car that costs more than most people's houses—holding a bouquet of pink roses.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
He's wearing dark jeans that hug his muscular thighs in all the right ways and a red dress shirt that stretches across his broad chest. His dark hair is slightly messy like he's been running his fingers through it, and the sight makes my mouth go dry. The whole look screams "I could bench press you and probably will later," and my body is very much here for it.
