SYLAS
Tuesday, December 24
Standing outside Anna’s door,I stare at the crooked brass number on the frame then down at my lopsided bow tie. When I go to fix it, the door swings open and the world around me ceases to exist.
I breathe in but don’t exhale, the air getting caught and trapped in my lungs.
Anna isstriking. I’m in a state of shock, unable to fathom forming a single thought or word to convey just how gorgeous she looks.
“You look…” Her words ebb, eyes trailing down the length of my body and back up, stopping when they reach my neck. She takes a step forward, lifting her hands. “May I?”
“Yeah.” I swallow, nodding. My gaze darts to every inch of her, soaking everything in all at once. “I look what?”
My lungs burn, begging for air, and when I take a breath, I’m drowned in the scent of her perfume: apples, cinnamon, maple, reminding me of the candle sitting on my nightstand.
She gently adjusts my bow tie, peering up at me from her thick black lashes, her dark whiskey eyes boring into mine. When she’s done, she doesn’t move her fingers. They stay on the rounded edges of the black silk.
I trace over the line of her lips, at the red color that paints them, and I watch fixedly as they move when she talks. “You look very handsome.”
That makes me feel good, but it’s hard to focus on the words when I can’t stop replaying the sound of her soft, seductive voice. Or the way her lips parts to speak, teeth just barely grazing the inside of her bottom lip, her tongue shifting with every syllable.
I smile, settling my gaze on her face. I inhale a slow breath, filling my lungs with her perfume. “And you look…” I close my mouth because I still haven’t found an appropriate word for how she looks. “Divine. Mesmerizing.”
They’re not my best work, but they are the only ones that came to mind. I am, though, mesmerized.
She’s wearing a long black dress that hugs her body in a way that’s both modest and sexy. The straps purposely hang off her shoulders, there’s a small dip in the neckline that exposes just a bit of her cleavage, and the slit on the side of her leg stops mid-thigh, giving me a view of her heels and the thin black straps around her ankles.
Expelling a quiet breath, I force myself to look up at her again.
“Yeah, you are the personification of the wordbeautiful. I’m sorry.” I grab a wisp of her bang, twirling the black strand around my finger. I eye the gold earrings and the small studs on her ears, the clear lens that covers the surface of her eye, and the tight slicked-back bun.
Her lips part as they curl upward into a demure smile. “What are you sorry for?”
“That those are the only words I was able to come up with. They don’t do you justice.”
Her already pink cheeks darken and her eyes glimmer as they leisurely sweep over my face. “You said I’m the personification ofbeautiful. That’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received. Nothing will ever top it. You’ve just set the standard.” She drops her hands to her sides. “So, it’s safe to say I did good?”
I’m grinning hard, just as she’s beaming when I grab her hand and spin her around. “More than good. I can’t wait to show you off.”
Anna giggles when I wrap an arm around her back and draw her to my chest. “Because I look good?”
“No, because you’re mine.” My voice deepens, not like it did the other night. It sounds rough and possessive. I should tone it down, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to fake it anymore, and after tonight, I want to takepretendout of our relationship.
“Ready?” I quietly ask as we enter my parents over-the-top Christmas-decorated home. It’s not gaudy but it’s very in your face.
I’d be lying if I said it’s not pretty. I know it is, and I can tell Anna feels the same way as her gaze veers over every decoration in wonderment.
“Yeah.”
“If anyone makes you feel uncomfortable, if they’re pushy, annoying you, being rude, or invasive…touch your earring or saybells, and we’ll get the fuck out of here,” I tell her, but her lips quirk up, eyes shining.
I gave her a rundown of what things would be like when we came here. The majority of my parents’ friends are pretentious, shallow-minded people. Anna said she’d be okay because of her working at the restaurant and cleaning homes, but this is different. Thesepeoplearen’t just anybody, they’re celebrities—everything from professional athletes, models, actors and actresses, and CEOs. They’re not worried about wandering eyes or listening ears because what happens here, stays here.
Not that anything bizarre happens other than the drugs, the alcohol, the men bringing their mistresses, and whatever happens in the tucked-away rooms in my parents’ home.
She rubs her thumb over my hand. “I promise to warn you, but don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”
“I know. Everyone here is particular, and I know what they’re like.”
