Chapter 1
I’ve always been drawn to the scent of roses. I’d soak in rose-scented bathwater until my skin shriveled like a raisin, but indulging in such luxuries had taken a back seat. Despite having two bathrooms on the second floor, eight people shared them, which made finding privacy increasingly difficult even in a large house. It wasn’t fair to others if I occupied the bathroom for two hours. Someone would always knock, voices disturbing me from outside the door.
I wasn’t used to a noisy house and sharing bathrooms. Aside from my childhood, I’d always lived alone, whether it was in a townhome, apartment, or hotel room.
Instead of soaking in oils for hours on end, I slathered my arms with rose-scented lotion.
“I need to get it together,” I muttered while digging through my makeup bag. I owned tons of expensive cosmetics that I rarely used anymore. Now they were relics of another life.
It still took work to achieve a no-makeup look. My fair complexion benefited from contouring and blush, and brown mascara subtly enhanced my blue eyes. Since my makeup mirror was in the bedroom, I struggled to lean over the sink and get acloser look in the mirror. While brushing the wand over my top lashes, I accidentally poked myself.
“Ouch!” I cupped my eye and cringed from the burning pain. My eye teared up instantly.
A knock at the door startled me, and I dropped the mascara onto the floor.
“Joy?” Cecilia called out. “Are you okay in there?”
“Gracious, no. I’m a complete disaster.”
The door cracked open, and Cecilia peered inside. “What happened?”
I lowered my hand, my right eye still sealed shut as it continued to sting.
She grimaced.
That’s when I redirected my gaze to the mirror and burst out laughing. “It looks like a tarantula crawled onto my face.”
She retrieved a hand towel and ran it under the water. “It’s not so bad. Let me fix it for you.” After adding a drop of liquid soap to the towel, Cecilia dabbed beneath my eye. “The trick is to be gentle or you’ll irritate your skin and make it worse.”
As she cleaned up the mascara, it dawned on me how Cecilia might have had firsthand experience hiding bruises and cleaning makeup from tearstained cheeks.
“Oh, honey. You don’t have to make a fuss over a little makeup disaster. Fake eyelashes are better, but I haven’t worn those in years. I’m out of practice with the mascara.” After wiping the corner, she backed up and assessed the damage. “All done, but your eyeball is red.”
“So be it.”
Cecilia was a sweetheart, and the poor girl had been through hell with her abusive ex. While her and Archer’s relationship had initially surprised me, they were an ideal match. He doted over her, cherished her, and treated her like gold. Cecilia grounded Archer, which made him more pack-oriented. I loved seeingher give him surprise gifts, and they held hands like young sweethearts. They didn’t kiss in front of us often, but he treated her with such tenderness that it left me envious. The way their fingers touched at the dinner table was every bit as intimate as a kiss. After all she had suffered, she deserved a love like his.
That often left me wondering what I deserved.
Cecilia adjusted her ponytail and gave her reflection a cursory glance. Every woman in the house had her own unique beauty, and hers shone through in her kindness and grace. Some might have considered a lithe girl with brown hair and long skirts plain, but Cecilia’s wholesome aura reminded me of the girl I once was long ago. She knew exactly who she was, and that was something I was still figuring out for myself.
After collecting the mascara off the floor, she put the wand back in the tube. “You’re prettier without it. Besides, it’s just us girls today.”
“Yes, just us girls,” Virgil repeated from the doorway.
“Don’t even dream of it,” I warned him. “Only the ladies are invited.”
Virgil was always inserting himself in conversations and trying to tag along. He hated being left out of anything, so he shouldered his way in. Taking an eyeliner pencil from my makeup bag, Virgil leaned toward the mirror and lined his eyes. “Is this better?”
“You still need a vagina.”
He set the eyeliner on the sink and stared down at me, his tousled blond hair giving off a rock star vibe. “This is the twenty-first century, and you still want to define sexuality by genitalia?”
Cecilia forced him out of the room and let the door shut behind her. “One of these days I’m going to feel guilty about excluding him from our outings.”
Virgil whimpered outside the door.
“Honey, don’t.” I placed the eyeliner back in my makeup bag. “Virgil can’t be part of everything. If the men can go out and have their time together, so can we. Virgil only wants to get drunk on sensory magic and flirt with everyone in the bar. I’m not in the mood to babysit tonight.” I cocked my head. “Did he shift?”
