“Melony, what a beautiful name.”
Reese snorts, right between us. Not in an awkward kind of way, more in adude’s blowing up my gamekind of way.
He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “Oh shit, this is going to be good.”
Ignoring him, I keep my attention focused on Melony. “Do you frequent these shoots often?”
Another snort. “That’s the best you got?” Reese asks. “Come on, man. You’re better than the old ‘you come around here often’ pick-up line.”
He’s right, but fuck, I’m kind of thrown off my game a little. It’s the glossiness of her lips; they’re distracting me. Would that gloss help her slide right along my dick?
Melony ignores Reese’s barb and says, “I do all hair and makeup for the show, mostly for Bellini.”
Conversation door open.
“Oh shit, and you haven’t been burnt by dragon lady’s spitting fire yet?”
She flips her hair to the side and grins at me. “Why do you think my hair is short?”
Fuck. I like her. Just like that. The sexy grin, the flip of her soft hair, the mischief in her eyes. Yup, I’m a fucking goner.
But just as soon as the words slip from her mouth, she straightens up and looks at Reese. “Oh crap. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, Mr. King. Bellini is . . .” she swallows hard and continues, “a nice lady.”
Reese waves it off. “She can be a bitch.”
It’s all he says but I know what he really means. Bellini is the epitome of the devil reincarnated. Unfortunately, given his situation, he has to be politically correct. Frankly I don’t know why he’s putting himself through this kind of torture. Trials aren’t for six months; you would think his publicist could come up with something else for him to do after his last stint at the Olympics. If I were him, I would fire my publicist’s ass.
“Reese, can you spare a moment over here for a second?” a squirrely man I know by the name of Jasper asks. Reese excuses himself, giving me the perfect opportunity to talk with Melony.
She’s washing some makeup brushes, busying herself and staying as far away from me as possible. Too bad for her, I have other plans.
“Where are you from, Melony?” She glances in my direction but turns back to her brushes.
“Here,” she says curtly.
“Born and raised a Cali girl, huh? That’s—”
“I’m going to stop you right there.” She holds her hand up. “I see where this is going.”
“And where is this going?” I ask, stepping closer to her.
She gives me the once-over and puts her hand on her hip. “You say some cheesy stuff trying to get to know me. To be polite, I’ll entertain you and then you’ll ask me out. I’ll say no and then you’ll take that as a challenge.”
I scrunch my nose. “You would say no?” That’s kind of a first for me, so I’m interested to hear her answer.
“Not used to the word? Does the Olympic diver always get what he wants?”
“Ah, so you know who I am.” I knowingly point at her. “I knew you did from the way you tried to see through my shirt. Don’t worry, sweetheart, the abs everyone talks about are real.”
She scoffs. “You’re pathetic.”
Well, that’s a first as well.
“Are you trying to make me cry?” I tease.
Rolling her eyes, she steps away, putting unwanted distance between us. “Seriously, not going to happen, Hollis, so pack up your pick-up lines and take them somewhere else.”
“Wow.” I rest my hip against one of the tables full of beauty shit and cross my arms over my chest. “Flatter yourself much? Who says I was even trying to pick you up? What if I was just trying to be nice? That’s kind of embarrassing for you, assuming such a thing.”
