Page 46 of The Pursuit of Happiness (Satan’s Angels #2)

Aria

I want to become physically violent as the makeup artist accidentally pokes my eye with the black eyeliner pencil she’s using to line my water lines. “I’m so sorry!” She apologizes rapidly, a deer in the headlights look in her eyes as if she’s afraid I’m about to go diva on her.

I blink the tears away and fan my eyes, “It’s okay, no worries. I probably moved.” I take back what I said about the physical violence. She looks scared enough as is. Besides, I think my nerves are getting to me.

I am so unbelievably anxious about this talk show, the slightest of things are threatening to toss me over the edge.

John Sweet has a reputation for making rude jokes about people in front of them on national television.

I’ve heard whispers that he’s a closeted sexist, so naturally, I’m panicking because of course Selene wants to book Sly and I on this show right after the entire world has watched us have sex.

Selene promised that she spoke to his team, but there’s no telling if that will actually stop John from bringing it up. What makes things riskier is that this is a live show and nothing can be edited out.

As if matters couldn’t be any worse, I feel so out of place in this outfit that was chosen for me.

I didn’t even get a say in my hair and makeup.

I’m completely made up with dark, bold eye makeup and my hair is styled into a loose, updo on the top of my head, the blue strands poking out in different places.

My least favorite part about my appearance is the baby blue latex- like, tube dress that Selene had chosen for me.

I’m also wearing a pair of heels to match.

Fucking heels ! I was already five-foot-nine-inches before the heels, but now I may be closer to Sly’s eye level.

The makeup artist steps away and gives me the chance to look at my overly made-up face and I thank her even though I want to take about six makeup wipes to my skin.

She packs up her kit and my dressing room door opens.

I turn to see who’s entered and feel instant relief when I realize it’s Sly.

He looks mouthwatering in the black button up and slacks he’s wearing.

The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing the expanse of tattoos on his skin.

I feel his eyes roaming over every inch of my body the way that mine have explored his. When his eyes land on my face, he has a sympathetic look on his face. “You look perfect, Kane. There is not one person or thing on this planet that shadows how unbelievably perfect you are.”

The makeup artist gives me a quick smile and I don’t fail to notice the blush staining her cheeks. She hurries out of the dressing room, leaving Sly and I alone and I offer her a quick thank you before she’s gone. I tilt my chin up at him, “You don’t think the makeup is too much?”

He walks closer to me, stopping only when he leans against the vanity. He leans in close enough to give me a quick peck on the lips and then he shrugs, “I prefer you without all of it, but I can’t lie and say you don’t look beautiful.”

I laugh, “You would still tell me I look beautiful if I had dirt rubbed all over my face.”

He grins, “Yes I would, and it would not be a lie.”

I snort a laugh as I push myself out of my chair.

My feet already hurt from these God forsaken heels and I want more than anything to take them off and walk across the stage barefoot, but I know Selene would have a conniption.

He reaches out and rests his palm against the side of my face, “Are you okay? You’re tense and I know you get like that when you’re anxious. Or when you’re hungry.”

I rest my palms against his chest flat as I frown, “I’m kinda freaking out that he’s gonna bring up the tape,” I admit.

He gives me a sympathetic look as he places one hand on the small of my back, pulling my body closer to his, “Selene already spoke to the crew. He won’t.”

I sigh, “I’m still worried.”

He shakes his head, “You have no reason to be. Besides, if that motherfucker says one word about you, I have no problem tearing him to shreds on national television.” There’s a certain edge to his voice that has the valley between my thighs getting aroused.

I kiss his jaw, “There will be none of that. I don’t need to worry about you going to jail again.”

He rolls his eyes, “It would’ve been worth it.”

“Um, no it would not.” I can not possibly be the rational thinker in this relationship. If I’m the rational one, we’re so fucked. “Can I ask you something?” I ask, my tone suddenly growing serious.

He dips his chin, “Of course.”

I keep my voice low and not intentionally.

I’m so nervous to ask because I don’t know how he’ll react.

“Would it be okay if we skip the after party?” I ask, but I start rambling when I see the confused look on his face, “I mean, if you want me to go, I’ll go.

Or if you want to go, I can wait at home for you.

I just don’t feel like going out after all this, I feel really emotionally exhausted and it didn’t even start yet, and-”

He places a hand over my mouth to silence me, “Baby, stop.” He has an amused expression on his face, “If you don’t want to go, we won’t go.”

I exhale and he removes his hand to let me speak, “Are you sure? I would feel bad asking if you were looking forward to it.”

Sly shakes his head, “I was only looking forward to it because you would’ve been there. Now that you won’t be there, I don’t give a shit about the party. I’d rather be wherever you are and if that’s home, that’s where I’ll be.”

I melt at his words and feel the tension leaving my body. I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him, resting my head against his chest. He kisses the top of my head and holds me to him. I take a long, deep breath and inhale his scent, “God, you smell so fucking good.”

He laughs and the dressing room door opens again.

We both look up to watch as Selene strides into the room with purpose.

When her eyes take in my body wrapped around Sly’s she rolls her eyes, “I hope I didn’t walk in on you two about to fuck in a dressing room.

Especially not when you have to be on in ten minutes. ”

“No dressing room sex,” Sly promises her, saluting her with two fingers.

She puffs out her lip, “I would hope not. I have enough of that with Brody.”

“You have dressing room sex with Brody?” Sly asks, feigning shock. I swat his chest, but can’t help the laugh that spills out of me.

Selene scolds, “Shut up, fool! Brody and Harvey are the ones having nasty dressing room sex. I keep it classy.”

Sly grins, “I’ll take your word for it.”

She gestures between the two of us, changing the subject, “So what was going on here before I walked in?”

I keep my mouth shut, but Sly answers for me, “Our girl is a little anxious. She thinks John is gonna bring up the tape.”

Selene looks threatening, “I already warned the team that if he does, I’m going to ruin him.”

I try to let her words reassure me, but there’s a nagging feeling in my stomach like something is going to happen. Something we have no control over. I don’t want to talk about John and our potential imminent doom at his live TV hands. “And these heels hurt, Selene. Can’t I just walk barefoot?”

Selene gives me the most disgusted and repulsed look, “Are you a fucking animal? You want to walk barefooted onto that stage? Did I not teach you better than this?”

I groan, “I knew you’d say that.”

Selene waves a hand in front of us in a stopping motion, “I can’t believe you would ask such a stupid question.”

I frown, “It was worth a shot.”

Selene turns on her heel and strides for the door, “Be ready in two minutes. The show is starting and a stage crew member will be here to grab you.” She exits and the door slams behind her.

Sly laughs immediately, “Why is she so bothered by the shoes?”

I roll my eyes, “She has a thing against feet.”

He shakes his head, looking disappointed, “I don’t want to know.”

I walk back to my chair and sit as the pain from these heels intensifies.

I was standing for too long. I want to cut my feet off, that’s how bad they hurt.

As someone who does not wear heels often, I can truly say I do not feel like I am going to survive the entire night if I have to wear these shoes.

I rub my ankle even though it doesn’t do much of anything to alleviate the pain.

I clench my teeth as the blood flow starts to regulate.

Sly pushes off the counter and kneels before my chair, grabbing one foot and removing the heel. “What are you doing?” I ask, my body relaxing as the heel comes off, leaving my foot to breathe and not feel confined. The relief is instant.

He looks up at me doubtfully as he starts rubbing the sole of my foot. I lean back in my chair and moan at how good it feels. “Why are you wearing these if they hurt that bad?”

“Selene Stone.” Two words. Just two words and there is no explanation necessary.

He removes the other heel and gets to work on that foot. “As soon as we’re done with this show, the heels are coming off.” He demands as if I’m arguing. That was the plan all along.

The door opens again and I know it has to be the stage crew member. It’s a younger man, probably around twenty-one. He looks from Sly who is actively rubbing my feet to me and looks immensely uncomfortable. “Okayyy. Um, we need you. It’s showtime.”

Sly slides the heels back on my feet gently and helps me out of my chair.

He leads us out of the dressing room as we follow the crew member.

His hand holds mine the entire time and he walks slowly, carefully so as not to make me walk any faster in these already uncomfortable shoes. I silently thank him.

Once we make it to the entrance, I grab his forearm and squeeze. He looks down and gives me a reassuring look. He looks at me with pride in his eyes as if he feels more confident in my ability to do this than I have for myself.