It’s not until I hear a familiar name that I actually pay attention to what they’re saying.
“Have you seen the catch Lantram reeled in? I mean, my God. Who even cares if he can sing? I’d sign him to the label just to watch him shake his ass in my office.” The busty blonde in the black dress that fits like it was custom made for her body applies a thick layer of gloss and smacks her lips loudly together.
My stomach roils, catching on quicker than my mind does.
Dallas. She’s talking about Dallas.
“Right? No wonder she isn’t here tonight. Probably tied up. Literally.” The brunette tousles her hair back and forth then gives each of her cheeks a slight pinch. “You know she does them all. Hello, why do you think all of her most successful clients are twenty-something and male? Woman knows what she wants, I’ll give her that.”
“Can’t say I—” The blonde stops talking midsentence and glares at me. “Can we help you?”
Oh shit. I’ve been staring openly at them. My mind races; thankfully I’m good on my feet. “God, sorry. I didn’t mean to stalker stare. I was trying to figure out what kind of gloss that was. Your lips look ah-mazing. I can never find a good plumper and collagen only lasts so long, you know?”
I have no idea how long it lasts but I can tell that she does.
Her glare eases and she gives me a glassy-eyed smile, flashing pearly white veneers. “Right? It really is the best. It’s Lust for Life by Marc Jacobs. So good.” There’s enough of a slur to her words that I’m thankful her buzz is helping me out of a very awkward situation.
“Well it looks gorgeous on you. I’ll have to pick some up next time I’m out,” I say, even though I doubt they carry it at the CVS where I buy what little bit of makeup I wear.
“Here, put some on. It will look killer with that dress.” She digs it out of the clutch she’s just dropped it into and hands it to me.
“Oh. Um, okay. Thanks.” I take it, feeling extremely awkward about using a stranger’s lip gloss but knowing it will be even more awkward if I reject her offer after staring like a creeper. Oh well. You only live once.
I slide on some gloss then return it to her. They leave giggling and discussing which plastic surgeons have done the best jobs on their lips. My attention returns to my reflection and damn. Now I wish I’d never even put the stuff on because it really does make my lips looks fuller.
I use my fingertip to smear toothpaste inside my mouth instead of brushing because I am now in love with this sinfully perfect lip gloss that in a million years I’ll never be able to afford. Rinsing and spitting carefully, I roll my eyes at my own stupidity.
Somewhere in the hazy fog of three Long Island ice teas and the adrenaline rush from my encounter in the ladies’ room, I know that there is an analogy in here someplace. Gavin is kind of like this lip gloss. Even kissing him the other day changed everything. No one will ever kiss me like that again, will be able to affect me the way he did, turning everything from muted blue to a bright, blinding shade of red.
Damn him. And this designer gloss.
I check my phone while I’m walking out of the restroom and see that I now have only eight minutes to make my escape. Just as I look up from the glowing numbers, I narrowly avoid smacking straight into Afton’s chest.
“I was getting worried. You okay?”
It couldn’t have been a more perfect opening if I’d planned it. Though the genuine concern on his face makes me feel like a complete ass for lying to him. Part of me considers just telling him the truth and making him swear on his guitar not to tell my brother. But this isn’t my secret to tell—it’s Gavin’s. And that makes it a precious one that I’ll keep no matter the cost.
“Yeah, um, actually I’m not feeling so hot. Maybe I should’ve taken it easy on the spicy tuna. Would you hate me if I bailed and headed back to my hotel?”