by Amy Daws
Thirty minutes later, I barely recognize myself. I love dramatic makeup just as much as the next girl, but this is a step above. The blonde applied thick, fake lashes and black eye shadow over my entire lid. My eyes look large and dramatic making my green eyes appear almost neon. The contour foundation and blush she applied makes every angle of my face pop. I feel like I’m looking at a different person.
The deep purple lipstick is something I’ve never tried before, but it looks kind of cool with my auburn locks that she’s teased and mussed into a messy rocker vibe. Suddenly, she thrusts a ball of fabric into my chest.
“Change.”
“Here?” I ask, looking around for Frank who’s suddenly MIA.
Fucking Frank!
“Yes here, come now, no need to act shy. You’re on in ten, hurry up.” She walks out of the room leaving me with the offensive outfit. I hold up the scrap of fabric and my heart drops. This is so not enough fabric. Shaking my head and mustering up my courage, I quickly shed my clothes—desperate to see if this outfit is as bad as I think it is.
Once dressed, I stare at myself in the vanity mirror having an out-of-body experience. The top is a black halter bikini with thick satin straps that crisscross over my torso and clasp onto the back of the booty short bottoms. I turn to see my ass and feel grateful that not too much of my butt cheeks seem to be hanging out.
Good night, what would my family say if they saw me now?
I tug up the sheer black thigh highs and jiggle slightly to see if they are going to fall down. They seem secure enough. The furry black knee-high leg covers are the real kicker of this smashing ensemble. Go-go dancer through and through. I pray to God no one recognizes me tonight. Fucking Frank.
I exit the greenroom and see three other girls dressed in the same outfit as mine. They eye me snottily, drinking in my entire body. I squirm, feeling like the ugly stepsister. All of them have way bigger breasts and way bigger asses than I do. They look like women. I look like a small boy dressed in drag. Fucking Frank!
“Oi, listen up!” A man with a clipboard and an attached headset hollers over the loud music. “You have thirty minutes. You’re podium one, you’re two, you’re three, and you’re…” he pauses, eyeing me up and down briefly then looks back to his clipboard, “…four. Get out there, give it all you got, and we’ll let you know at the end of the night if we want you back for second auditions.”
He pauses and presses his headset to his ear, listening closely. A short, Italian-looking man comes by with a tray of tall double shots and I watch each girl grab it and down it without a second thought. I follow suit, wishing I could have four more. Headset guy nods and swirls his hand and we all shuffle closely after him. These platform boots make me feel tall for a change, which is quite nice. That’s about the only thing I like about any of this right now. Thank God Frank didn’t let any of our roommates come along to tonight’s challenge. If he had, I might have to well off and junk punch him. I can’t believe I’m about to do this. Fucking Frank!
My eyes adjust to the swirly club lights and loud music. I follow in line, snaking through the swarm of Londoners grinding on each other, oblivious to me. Men on men, women on women, men on women, ménages. This club is full of all types.
Headset guy stops at a large glowing platform where another big black security guard is stationed. He holds his hand out to me. I accept it gratefully and step up onto the large, square pedestal. The entire thing is glowing blue and then changes, casting a red glow all over my skin.
The DJ’s voice cuts into the music.
“Oi, oi, oi, you sexy Londoners. Round three of auditions are up next, let’s give them a rap-tap-tap round of applause and get this party bumping!” The crowd erupts into cheers and I squint when the spotlights swirl around me. A hypnotic beat starts and headset guy gawks at me in annoyance.
Oh, shit, dancing! Right! That’s what I’m here for! I begin swirling my hips to the beat and the color of my pedestal shifts to a blazing green. The bright lights of the spotlight make it easy for me to pretend there isn’t a crowd of people clustered in all around me. I avoid eye contact with them for as long as I can, knowing that if I look at any of them I’ll realize what the fuck I’m doing and piss myself. The music ramps into a great beat I’ve always loved. As the spots swirl away, my platform changes to an electric blue color. I jump up and down, actually enjoying myself—the double shot warming my veins some. Feeling brazen, I chance a glance down at the crowd around me. About half are watching, the other half are grinding with people on their own.
I continue shaking my ass and feel a sharp zap of shock when my I see my Theo. I mean, Theo, grinding on a tall blonde bombshell. My dancing falters as I squint to make sure it’s him. It’s definitely him. I’d know that thick muscular build anywhere. He has a certain gate to his movement that’s unmistakable. And those fucking sexy glasses!
He looks up as if he can feel my eyes on him. Knowingly, he quips his eyebrows ever so slightly, right in my direction. He then looks down briefly adjusting his leg so it’s between the skank’s thighs. He smirks cockily. Fucking Theo!
Refusing to let him affect me, I drop down low and rise slowly, shimmying my ass the whole way. The crowd apparently digs my sexy move because I hear a rush of cheers and hoots. Theo looks up and eyes me warily. His smirk turns menacing and he pulls the girl close to his chest, his lips dragging along her bare shoulder.
Feeling anxiety rise deep within me, I attempt to look away and continue mindlessly dancing, trying not to watch him—or care. What is he playing at? Why do I even care? Out of the corner of my eye, I look over just as he grabs her face and kisses her like his life depends on it. I stop dancing—my jaw slack in shock. I feel like I’ve just been slapped, watching painfully as his face eats away at that woman. A shaky gasp quivers in my chest.
“You alright?” the security guard asks me, looking concerned as I stand there completely immobile. Tears prick the back of my eyes as Theo continues molesting the blonde’s lips. I shake my head and cover my mouth, unable to stand another second of it.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I say, loudly, desperate to get out of this situation. The security guard turns and grabs me at the waist, hauling me down off the pedestal in one fell swoop. He drapes his arm over me protectively and shoves me through the swarms of people. My eyes boil over with tears as the image of Theo and that girl plays on repeat in my mind.
I gasp for air as the security guard pushes open the door to the greenroom. I clutch my stomach tightly and stumble into the first chair I find.
“I’ll get you some water,” he says, disappearing out the door.
What the hell is happening to me right now? I can’t be this upset over Theo kissing someone! I wanted him to leave me alone. Why is this bothering me so much? I wipe my tearstained face and hear a commotion of arguing coming from the other side of the wall. I stand up on shaky legs and wrench open the door to find Theo, Frank, and the security guard arguing loudly.
“Leslie,” Frank says, looking guilty as sin. Theo turns to look at me for the first time, his sexy face marred with worry.
“This guy says he knows you,” the security guy says.
“I told you he knows her,” Frank says, rolling his eyes. The guard doesn’t seem to care what Frank says, he’s only looking to me for approval. I nod slightly, turning my sad eyes to Theo.
“You want to see him right now?” The guard sounds territorial and protective. It’s sweet really.
I nod again and step back, holding the door open. Theo grabs the bottle of water roughly out of the guard’s hand and makes his way over to me.
“I’ll be right out here, Leslie,” Frank says, as Theo slams the door rudely in their faces. I shake my head and turn toward the wall, feeling physically unable to face Theo. All I can picture is his lips on that blonde bimbo, and it’s nauseating. Not to mention, I’m certain I look like a hot mess of runny makeup and tears.
“Leslie.” He says my name softly.
I brace my fingertips on the wall for support, just to give me something to focus on besides Theo’s face. “Leslie,” he utters again, reverently.
I laugh pathetically. “You showed me,” I croak in a high-pitched tight sound. “You said you’d show me ‘nice’ and boy did you.” I sniff loudly and try to clear my gravelly voice.
“I didn’t want to show you anything!” He presses his front to my back, mirroring my braced hands on the wall, encasing me. I can feel the intense rise and fall of his chest and I shiver at his close proximity.
“I just wanted to wake you the fuck up!” His breath tickles the hair on my head.
“I’m awake,” I giggle sadly, biting my lip. “Who is that girl?”
“No one.”
“You like kissing no ones, do you?" I roll my eyes even though he can’t see them.
“I like kissing you,” he says, slowly. “I more than like kissing you, Leslie.” He removes his hand from the wall and grabs my waist softly, turning me to face him. His rough hands on my exposed torso send intimate shooters through my core. I look sideways, unable to make eye contact.
“Can’t you see this, Leslie?” he pushes my bangs away from my eyes. “Can’t you see this as something more? Don’t you feel it?” I shake my head, willing my chin not to wobble. I’m scared shitless right now. Scared of what this could be. Scared of what it could turn into. Scared of letting myself have hope.
“You’re all I’m wanting, Leslie. I’ve been this way since I first clapped eyes on you. I never thought I’d find anyone that could make me truly care again.” He strokes his thumb along my cheek, making me feel like putty in his hands.
I finally find the courage to look into his eyes. His glasses frame his glossy brown eyes perfectly. I believe him. I believe every word he’s saying, but I still don’t understand it.
“Why me?” I ask quietly, looking away quickly, feeling embarrassed and raw.
He scoffs and looks incredulous for a moment. When I refuse to meet his gaze, he rubs his buzzed hair roughly, throwing his hand out. “You shine, Leslie! Christ, you’re so bloody blind it’s infuriating!”
My eyes snap up to meet his, needing to see into his soul to know for certain if he’s full of shit or not. I don’t think he can be serious but his veracious expression begs to differ. His face blurs as my eyes fill with tears. I blink quickly, trying to clear my vision. Before I can argue he repeats again, “You shine and you sparkle and you make me feel again.”
Speechless. He’s rendered me completely speechless.
“I want you…only you.” He looks nervous and worried and starts to ramble. “I’m here. I’ve been looking for you, trying to make you see. I’m sorry I kissed her. I’m sorry I—” I grab his face and pull his mouth to mine, silencing his words.
No more words. No more talking. I have no idea what I’m doing anymore. Wanting Theo, not wanting Theo. I’m completely beside myself trying to figure out how to live this life without any type of love. And then this bruiser of a man pummels in so quickly, I can hardly breathe.
Feeling everything all at once, I break the kiss suddenly and gasp—the sound reverberating loudly in the room. I’m overwhelmed by the emotions behind this kiss. It’s too much. He presses his forehead against mine, stroking his thumbs along each of my cheeks as we both breathe heavily, frazzled.
“Please let me in, Leslie.” Tears slide quickly down my cheeks at his raw and honest request.
Why? Why does he want me?
“Just say yes,” he pants heavily against my lips. I can’t think anymore. I can’t worry anymore. This is it.
“Please, just say yes,” he adds again, softly brushing my lips with his.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He exhales a long, ragged breath and crashes down on my mouth.
***
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Leslie,” he says against my lips, breaking our passionate encounter and my internal warring. “As much as I want you so incredibly bad right now. We need to leave.”
My eyes flutter open and I’m reminded of my whereabouts. Yes, I suppose getting acquainted inside the greenroom of Club Taint isn’t exactly the most ladylike spot to reconnect. He pulls away from me, adjusting himself slightly and eyes my attire. I place my hands on my hips and smile dumbly.
“Not exactly my style,” I snort and he smiles sweetly at me.
“I agree,” he adds thoughtfully.
“I’ll just change.”
“I’ll just wait,” he says, folding his arms across his broad chest and eyeing me carefully.
“You’re going to stand there and wait?” He nods and I roll my eyes. I quickly grab my long cotton maxi dress and throw it on over the top of the black stringy getup. I retract my arms inside the dress and begin undoing the knots and clasps.
“Shy suddenly?” he asks, sliding his hands into the tight pockets of jeans. “You weren’t too shy up on that platform.”
“That was kind of fun actually!”
“Not for me,” he adds, looking grumpy.
“Not all of it was fun for me, I guess. Speaking of which, you probably want to go out and say goodbye to your little friend,” I say, tossing my stringy get up right at him. He catches it and holds it to his chest laughing.
“You need to stop.”
“Stop what?”
“You know what. She was a means to an end.”
“An end to what?” I ask, sliding my feet into my ballet flats and looking around for my purse.
“You running from me.” That halts me in my tracks. I shake my head, trying to stop my brain from tossing around all the reasons this is a bad idea.
“What I wouldn’t do to get inside that head of yours,” he says, reaching out and brushing my bangs back from my eyes.
“It’s nothing special, I assure you.”
“You have to stop doing that too.”
“Doing what?”
“Putting yourself down like you’re less than whatever warped idea of perfection you have in your mind. You’re fucking perfect, Leslie. Every man in the room wanted you up on that stage tonight. Even some of the gay ones, I think.”
I roll my eyes.
“STOP!” he thunders, grabbing my face between his firm hands. “Stop brushing away my compliments like I’m a liar. I’m not a liar, Leslie. You’re stunning.” He strokes my cheeks tenderly. “Though I do prefer you in your own style.” I blush and throw my purse over my shoulder.
“I’m ready.”
“No underwear?” he asks, adjusting his glasses. I smirk and bite my lip sheepishly. How did he notice I didn’t put any underwear on?
“I have a bit of an aversion to underwear.” I screw my lips off to the side, snarkily.
“You’re going to be the death of me.” He opens the door and we head out to find Frank around the corner chatting with Liza.
“Righto! Everything grand?” Frank asks, looking between Theo and me. I nod a yes. “You wanting to go?”
“I can take her home,” Theo says, looking at me seriously like he’s expecting me to fight him—or run.
“Are you good, Frank?” I ask.
“You two go ahead. Me and Larry, I mean, Liza have some partying to do.” Frank winks at me playfully.
I give Frank a quick peck on the cheek and head toward the back entrance with Theo. We step out into the alley and he gives a tight nod to the security guard that was there when we arrived. He ushers me over to a black BMW and opens the passenger side.
“You have a car?” I ask incredulously. I slide into the tan leather seat and he shuts the door behind me. “I don’t know anyone with a car over here,” I say out loud to myself.
He hops into the driver’s seat and takes off down the dark alley.
“How did you get them to let you park in the alley?” I ask, glancing at him behind the wheel and noticing how sexy he looks. A thin, script tattoo scrawls up the back of his arm from elbow to shoulder. I never noticed that before.
“A hefty ti
p,” he answers, shrugging his shoulders.
“Are you rich?” I blurt out. People with cars in London have to be rich, right? Although Frank is rich and he doesn’t have a car. Theo scowls at me and turns his eyes back to the road, remaining silent.
“What’s your tattoo say?” I ask, realizing that I seriously know jack shit about this guy.
“It’s a Gaelic word,” he mumbles half-heartedly. I pause, waiting for him to elaborate, but his lips form a tight line and he doesn’t seem to want to say anything more.
“I feel like I don’t know you at all, Theo,” I say quietly, looking out the window.
“You know all you need to know. The rest is just insignificant.” I contemplate that thought for a couple miles.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Not home.”
I’m so not ready to face the Finley firing squad. She’ll be relentless about emptying the cracks, and I still don’t know what the heck we’re doing here. Avoiding the house until things become clearer seems like a great idea to me.
“How about my place?” he asks, the timbre of his voice thick and husky. My tummy has butterflies instantly.
“Yeah, okay. I’m genuinely intrigued, Theo—oh my God!” I still, feeling shocked for a second. “I don’t know your last name!” My eyes grow wide.
“It’s Clarke,” he answers simply.
I giggle and reply, “Like Clark Kent!” He scowls at me in confusion. “Superman’s alter ego? Your glasses…ringing any bells?”
His confused expression turns sardonic. “And what’s your dazzling last name?” he asks, arching his eyebrows at me in anticipation.
I purse my lips and sigh, “It’s Lincoln. I know…Leslie Lincoln sounds like a cool celebrity name or something. I’m afraid it’s wasted on me.”
He grumbles and reaches over and grabs my hand. He pulls it up to his lips and nips the tip of my index finger.
“Ouch! What was that for?”
“For putting yourself down, Leslie Lincoln. It’s really getting on my nerves.”
