Page 9

Ingrid

“Stop pressuring her, Dana. The girl says she doesn't want to wear contact lenses. They hurt her eyes!”

“Well then, we just have to keep trying until we find ones that don’t.”

“Stop, Dana! How do you think Ingrid feels every time you force the issue? All this attention on something she can’t help is hurting her.”

“Well, how do you think I feel, huh? Walking around with a child everyone looks at like she's a....”

“A what? Say it.”

“No!

“A freak. Is that what you were going to say? Everyone says it anyway, right? How do you think our daughter feels knowing her mother thinks she's a freak because of something so superficial? It’s a fucking birthmark on her face. It’s not grotesque.

She is a healthy, sweet child. What more do you want? ”

“I'm not the bad guy here, Mark. Don't you dare paint me as a horrible mother! I didn't give her that ugly mark on her face. It's not my fault!”

I close my eyes as the door clicks shut behind me and force in deep breaths. Of course the memory of one of my parents’ vicious arguments would come up now and ruin everything Blaze did and said back at the cookout.

I'm okay. It's okay.

With another sigh, I drop my bag and shrug off the jacket. Next comes my heels and then dress. Only when I reach down to tug off my panties do I realize I don't have them on.

Oh right. He tore them off me.

Naked, I walk toward the bathroom and turn on the water, my body jolting in surprise when I feel the warm spray. I’d gotten used to bracing myself for the cold, and I guess it's going to take some getting used to the warmth.

My lips part on a sigh as the warm water sprays down my back. Gathering soap in my hand, I lather my body, stopping when I get to my stomach. I stroke over the skin slowly, recalling the memory of Blaze’s cum on my skin.

It's surreal.

I just had my first kiss. At twenty, I probably should have had my first kiss ages ago, but I always found myself around guys who were either freaked out by me or wanted to fetishize me.

My stomach turns at the thought of Blaze being one of the latter; he clearly isn’t freaked out by me.

“Every single person who ever told you that you were anything less than stunning. I want to find them all, and I'll bring them to their knees. I'll kill them all for you.”

I shake off the thought, lathering my stomach and washing away any remnants of the man's release. My sex is pulsing, and the memory of his tongue is still strong on my skin. The way he touched me—it was like I am the most precious person in his life.

“Let me show you just how beautiful you are.”

My nipples pebble and they ache when I wipe soap over them.

I close my eyes and pinch one bud, tugging it between my fingers the way Blaze did earlier.

I whimper at the feeling that spreads through my core, and I feel myself grow slick with arousal.

It's those olive green eyes that I see as I lather my body with soap, touching sensitive parts of my body I've never dared explore until. .. him .

Did he unlock something in me? Maybe.

I've always felt undesirable. No one has ever been able overlook my face long enough to see the rest of me, so I hide.

Maybe I convinced myself I was undesirable before Blaze touched me.

Then the emotional impact of that touch made me freak out on him and start crying before running off into the night.

God, it couldn't have gone worse than that.

I withdraw my hand like it's been burned. Rinsing off the soap, I quickly step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my body. I walk to the closet, and it's not until I'm reaching inside that I remember I don't need to pat around in the dark looking for something to wear anymore.

Someone—the landlord, of course—fixed my light. I flip it on and search and stand for a moment, trying to decide what to wear, but nothing feels right. It's too cold for just a T-shirt and too hot for my favorite fleece pajamas.

His jacket.

“Don't be insane.” I chuckle without mirth as I head back to the front door where I left everything. I pick up the jacket covered in the club patches and slide it on. Immediately, I'm overwhelmed by his warmth and scent.

Earthy, warm, and rich.

I pad back to my room and crawl into bed and under the covers. My damp hair sticks to the pillow, and I probably should follow the advice I offer my clients about hair maintenance, but tonight, I don't have the energy to do any of it.

I tell myself it doesn’t matter. I won’t sleep anyway. Not when I'm this restless and my heart so heavy. My mind is racing with thoughts and memories that refuse to settle. I close my eyes, promising myself that I’ll just lie here for a moment, letting the exhaustion wash over me.

Suddenly, I’m jolted awake by the shrill ringing of my phone, a sound that cuts through the fog of sleep like a knife. My heart races as I blink into the dim light of the room, disoriented and confused.

Morning? How did I fall asleep? And with all those horrible dreams. I glance at my alarm clock on my nightstand, eyes widening in surprise.

Jesus, it's already seven. The phone is ringing loudly, and I realize with a start that I left it by the door when I stumbled in last night.

Still groggy, I push the covers off and swing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet meeting the cool floor.

Sleep lingers in my mind, but I am brought fully awake by the urgency of the ringing phone.

I shuffle toward the entrance, my body still heavy with sleep. I tug the jacket closed over my naked body and cross my arms, fighting the chill as I go to grab my phone.

I can’t believe I actually dozed off, I think as I grab my phone. I don't bother checking the caller ID before taking the call.

“Hello?” I say with a yawn.

“Ingrid, oh thank God. You’re okay!” A panicked voice slices through my groggy brain. “I was so worried when you left the cookout without saying anything.”

Jade. My eyes are wide as the events of last night flood back in like a tidal wave. The cookout, excusing myself to go to the bathroom, and then running into Blaze and...

“I'm sorry,” I whisper, running a hand through my hair, wincing when I find it tangled. Serves me right. Sleeping with damp hair was a terrible idea. I don't have to look in the mirror to know it’s a tangled mess.

“What happened?” Jade's voice is soft, and for the first time, I want to open up. About my fears and insecurities. About everything.

I was scared , I want to say.

When Blaze kissed me on the very mark that seems to freak everyone else out, I was scared to hope and believe that someone could like that part of me as much as the rest of me.

My own mother tried to fix me. Hours, weeks, and months spent going from one dermatologist to another.

Poking and prodding at my face, trying brand after brand of makeup, looking for ways to get rid of, or at least hide my flaws.

And then he kissed them.

I reach up and caress the dark mark. He called it a beauty mark and then kissed it.

“I'm sorry I left early; I was just exhausted. I didn't want to disrupt you when you were having so much fun,” I say instead, pushing it down like I always do.

“Are you sure?”

“I'm fine, I promise,” I assure her. “I had fun last night, Jade, thanks for inviting me.”

“Oh, we're going to have even more fun at the bridal shower. You are going to stay after you do my makeup, right?”

I freeze at her words. Jesus, how could I have forgotten that her bridal shower is going to be on Thursday. “Will be at the...clubhouse?”

Will I see him ?

Am I ready to see him after what happened?

“Yeah. Saint can be a little...protective,” she says, I imagine with an eye roll, but I can hear the smile in her voice. “He says he wants me somewhere he knows I'll be safe.”

With how she speaks about her fiancé, I was surprised when I met him. He is a giant, intimidating man and utterly wrapped around her little finger. If Jade is having her bridal party at the clubhouse, it's because that's what she wants, if only give poor Saint, some peace of mind.

You belong to only me, Ingrid.

I shake off the memory. “Of course, I'll stay for the bridal shower, Jade.”

“Yay! There will only be like five or six of us. Some of my childhood friends will be coming. I can't wait for you to meet them.”

Her excitement transfers to me, and I find myself smiling. I'm about to speak when a knock interrupts me. “Hang on a second, Jade, I think someone's at the door.”

“Sure.”

I zip up the jacket, grateful it’s long enough on me to hit mid-thigh, and open the door a crack, surprised to see a delivery guy at the door.

“Ingrid Huss? I have an order for you.”

My brows knit in confusion. “Huh? I didn't order anything.”

“Well, someone did. It's under your name and address.”

The man lifts the bag, and I see the logo of my favorite café.

I stare at the bag for a second before deciding I might as well take it.

The jacket rides up my thighs, and I notice the man's interested gaze as he trails them up my body, but then his eyes widen in a mix of surprise and horror when they lock on the patches on the chest and sleeve.

“Fuck!” he curses under his breath before shoving the bag at my chest and sprinting down the hall.

“What was that?” Jade's voice breaks into my confusion. “Did someone send you breakfast?”

“It wasn't you?”

She chuckles. “Nope. What did you get?”

Curious, I kick shut the door and walk to the kitchen, putting Jade on speaker and the phone on the counter before turning to unpack the bag. “Oh!”

“Oh, what? What did they send you? Is there a note?”

“No note,” I answer, my heart racing as I unpack everything. “They got me breakfast. A caramel latte with whipped cream, avocado toast with poached eggs, cherry tomatoes, and chili flakes, a chocolate croissant, and…a smoothie bowl.”

“Wait, don't you hate bananas? The smoothie bowl—”

“Has no bananas,” I whisper after taking a closer look. “It's from my favorite café too, and it's all my favorite things.”

“Oh,” Jade whispers, her voice quiet. Whoever ordered my breakfast knows my favorite order. “D-do you think it's poisoned?”

My stomach growls as I stare at the avocado toast. It's prepared just how I like it, and the smell makes my stomach grumble. I pull out the kitchen stool and grab the croissant, moaning when I take a bite. “Oh my God,” I moan. “I don't care if it's poisoned. This is delicious.”

“Should I get Saint to look into who sent it?”

“No, it's probably my boss. I'll ask her about it later,” I rationalize.

I've told my boss, Tiffany, about my favorite café and what I like to order, and this is probably her way of taking care of her employees.

She often does little things to show us her appreciation.

“I don't know what they put in this avocado toast, but it's delicious.”

Jade chuckles, mumbling something about asking her fiancé to take her out to breakfast before hanging up.

Whoever sent this delivery must've heard the gods whisper into their ear that my fridge was empty.

I should probably make time to shop for groceries.

The withering bagel I have in my fridge would definitely not have put me in the mood I'm in when I finally get to work.

Tiffany is already at work when I get there.

She's an extremely beautiful forty-year-old woman with long blond hair, cherry red lips, and beautiful blue eyes that get her all the right attention everywhere she goes.

She's an excellent boss who took a chance on a young, inexperienced beautician who no one else was willing to hire.

In an industry that puts all its value on looks, she didn't care how I looked, only that I could put in the work.

I smile when I spot her talking to the receptionist. “Thank you for breakfast, Tiffany.”

“Oh, it’s just Starbucks coffee and muffins. Nothing too exciting.”

“Coffee and muffins?”

“Yeah, I brought some for everyone; I left yours on your desk. Eat up, you have an appointment downtown in an hour,” she was with a smile.

My brows knit in confusion as I walk to my workstation and sitting on my desk is a cup of coffee and a box with two banana muffins. My nose wrinkles at the smell of banana. I haven’t been able to stand the smell since I was a child.

Tiffany didn't get me the breakfast I had at home.

Even if she doesn't know that I hate bananas, who else outside my family would know?

“Your stalker ,” a little voice at the back of my mind whispers, but I shrug off the thought.

I don't have a stalker! Sure, I've felt eyes on me for a couple of days now, but every time I look, there's no one there.

There is no use getting paranoid over something that's not real.

Maybe it's a coincidence. Maybe my dad somehow found out about the café and wanted to send a surprise. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.

“Ingrid?” I look up to find Tiffany standing by my station, and by the way she's watching me, I can tell it's not the first time she's called my name. “Your appointment.”

“Right!” I jump up from my seat. “Right. I...I'll get going.”

“Are you okay? I can get someone else to cover for you if you're feeling sick.”

I shake my head, already packing up my things. “I'm fine. Just a little tired, but I'm fine.”

I'm fine.