Getting primped by Kara was like preparing for battle. Her weapons were laid out tidily on the bathroom counter: a palette of eye shadow and different types of brushes were lined up like soldiers, and tubes of lipstick and powders stood like tanks.
“Now sit, Ver, and let the master take over,” she said confidently, pulling up her sleeves and surveying my face. “Just close your eyes and let me make you more gorgeous than Cinde-fucking-rella at the ball. When I’m done, Lockhart will be on his knees, shoving that glass slipper on your dainty feet. Can you hear him begging yet?” She chuckled. “Cuz I sure can.”
I trusted Kara. I really did, but when I felt the pat, pat, pat of her fingers on my cheeks, the different kinds of creams she slapped on my face, the soft whisper of brushes on my skin, and the creamy feel of lipstick on my lips, I was scared.
“Kar. Please. Just the red lipstick.”
She scoffed and, to humor me, played Lady Gaga’s “Telephone” on her iPhone. “Oh, puh-lease, I’m a black belt at this, Ver. You’re going to worship the ground I walk on once you see yourself.”
She started dancing, raising her arms and swaying them in tune with the music. “This is what I’m going to tell that asshole Cameron once he wakes up from his stupid Sleeping Beauty slumber and starts chasing me. Wait for the lyrics, wait for it…”
She belted out the rest of the lyrics, screaming at the top of her lungs how he won’t stop calling and she’s k-kinda busy. When she was done, she rested her hands on the back of my chair.
“Okay, ready? In three, two, one.”
She whirled my chair around so I faced the mirror. I blinked at my reflection. I looked beautiful. I felt beautiful.
“Well?” she asked, eyebrow raised.
“You’re a miracle worker,” I whispered. “I’ll build you an altar and worship you.”
“I know, right? I’m Catwoman, and my whip is my cruelty-free makeup, baby. Rawr. Now squeeze your ass in that red dress, and let’s go get your man back.”
“Thank you.” I hugged her.
“Now don’t forget that trick I taught you. Bite your lip, blink slowly like in the movies, and flick your hair over your shoulder like an invitation, ya hear?”
“Yes, master.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
* * *
The club was dark, with glowing lights and music that pulsated in my ears. The smell of spicy food and sweet drinks hung in the air. I was wearing the red bandage dress, high heels, and the red lipstick I had on that night I met Caleb. That night he saved me.
Tonight, I was going to save us both.
If he would let me.
My heart lurched when I spotted Caleb sitting with the same crowd from last night, except there were two girls sitting beside him now. One of them placed her hand on his shoulder.
Don’t touch him!
He was wearing an open black leather jacket over a white V-neck shirt and dark jeans. A drink sat on the table in front of him, and he stared at it as if it held all the answers. He didn’t look like he was having a good time or even paying attention to the people around him. Maybe he was planning on leaving soon.
Don’t leave.
Not yet.
Not without me.
When the blond leaned toward him suggestively, jealousy coursed through my veins.
Caleb hadn’t seen me yet.
My heart was pounding. I didn’t like attention and usually hid or ran away when strangers paid attention to me, but one look at Caleb and I knew there was no way I would back out of this.
Memories came drifting back to me: the day he drove us to the country and bought us soup, pizza, and ice cream, and we kissed under the moonlight. He told me how beautiful I was.
“I figured we’d be silly today, maybe pretend to be someone else.”
“Who should we be?” I asked.
“Anyone,” he had whispered. “Mine if you want.”
Yours. I want to be yours, Caleb.
A new song came on. It was “Blind Heart” by Cazzette.
I strutted to the middle of the dance floor, raised my arms sensuously, and closed my eyes. I imagined Caleb’s eyes on me.
I shut everything out and began to sway my hips. I took a breath and opened my eyes, looking directly—only—at him.
At the only boy who had ever really owned my heart.
My heart pounded against my chest as slowly…slowly…slowly…he lifted his eyes and found mine.
His eyes widened in surprise. He sat up straight, alert now, turning his seat to watch me closely.
I slid my hand down my neck, swinging my hair to one side as I moved my shoulders and hips to the rhythm of the music. I leaned back a little, running my fingers through my hair as I moved my body with all the sensuality I had.
The blond tried to catch Caleb’s attention again.
I strutted toward him, our gaze still locked. I flipped my hair over my shoulder, giving him a sassy smile.
And just like the first time we met, I came up to him, hooking my arms around his neck. His eyes—so clear and green, just like in my dream—looked at me with intensity. He was so beautiful, it hurt my heart to look at him. He stood up, snaking his arm around my hips.
For one electrifying moment, we stared at each other. I could feel his hard body against mine, smell his masculine scent.
“Hey, baby.” I said it softly, my heart thundering in my chest. “He’s with me, aren’t you?”
His eyes darkened as they studied me.
“Where have you been?” I asked, just like he had asked me when we first met.
Did he remember?
I leaned close to him, my lip almost brushing his ear. I felt him shiver. “I’ve been looking for you my whole life,” I whispered, just like he had whispered to me a long time ago.
It was his turn to answer.
I held my breath. Whatever he said now would determine if he had forgiven me or not. If he still wanted me or not.
A small smile flitted on his lips as he whispered, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
I felt like crying.
“Caleb…”
His palms cupped my face, his thumbs brushing away my tears. “I remember,” he whispered, smiling down at me. “I asked you the same thing when we first met.”
“Yes,” I choked.
“Pancakes?” he murmured, his eyes filled with an emotion so intense and sincere, it filled my throat with longing.
“Pancakes,” I answered.
