“I’ll be out here, waiting for you,” he demands from the other side of the door.
I know he’s not joking. I would love to spend time with him right now, but sadly, I can’t because of Mom’s boyfriend. Putting on the jeans and bodysuit, I open the door and find him lying on the bed again.
I raise my eyebrows as a smirk lifts his handsome face.
Later, he mouths, and I instantly blush.
I cross my fingers.Forgive me, God, for my sinful thoughts.
Walking over to my makeup, I sit at my vanity and start applying my foundation.
“You don’t need that,” Leonidas grumbles from the bed. Getting up, he makes his way over. Standing behind me, he takes the beauty blender away from my grasp. “Trinity, you’re beautiful. You should wash it off. You’ve never worn makeup around me.”
I look at him with wide eyes. I can’t wash my makeup off. What is this guy talking about? Looking presentable when I meet Mom’s boyfriend for the first time is a must. I can’t look like a drowned cat with dark bags under my eyes.
His hands pull me out of the chair. Sitting on it, he pulls me down onto his lap. “You have skin that glows, a natural pink to your cheeks.” He pauses and kisses the tip of my nose. “Why do you want to cover up the few cute freckles you have?” He grabs the back of my head and places my forehead down onto his. “Why would you want to hide your natural beauty?”
Wearing makeup is normal for girls; it’s expected. Yet Leonidas makes me think of things on a deeper level.
Why do I really wear makeup? Is it because I like it?
Yes, I kind of do. It’s a pain to do every day though.
But do I wear it because that’s what society expects?
Yes, I wear makeup because it’s expected of me.
Fuck society and their beauty standards. If I’m feeling lazy, I shouldn’t put makeup on. I need to do stuff for myself.
I’ll just put on a bit of mascara, lip gloss, and I’ll be good to go.
Plus, it’s just Mom’s boyfriend. It’s not like I’m meeting the Prince of England.
“Okay, you’re right,” I say to him and find him smiling at me.
Washing off the foundation, I rub cream on my face and apply the sheer lip gloss to my lips. I’m ready … but am I really? No.
“I’ll be right up here if you need anything,” Leonidas says. “Text me if you want a distraction,” he says and pulls me into a lingering kiss.
I nod against his forehead and give him an encouraging smile.
* * *
He’s okay, I guess.
He seems friendly. I look closely to spot if his smile is forced. It isn’t.
Mom’s boyfriend is a good-looking man. He’s tan, his body is well built, and his Spanish accent seems to make Mom swoon. His son looks like a younger version of him. He’s quiet, and he only glances up when Mom asks him a question. He looks just as unhappy to be here as I am.
I study him. I know Mom said he’s my age, but he looks older. Black glasses sit on his nose. He wears a dark blue button-up shirt. His curly black hair bounces as he glances up and down. I watch as he pushes his peas back and forth on his plate with his spoon. He’s interesting, definitely not what I expected.
“So, Trinity, what career do you want to pursue?” Rodrigo asks, gripping my mother’s hand tight in his.
“Seeing as my grades last year dropped dramatically, being a stripper is my only option,” I say with a straight face. Obviously, I’m joking. I just want to see him uncomfortable.
Diego, the mute, chokes on his food. Grabbing his water bottle, he gives me a concerned glance after taking sips. “What happens when you turn wrinkly and old? What will you do for money then?” he jokes.
“I’ll still shake what my mama gave me. Age doesn’t define sexiness,” I note simply, forking a piece of steak.
