Ropes and Lace | MM Romance PREVIEW

Chapter 5 - Resist Me

"Frostycream6.9 liked your post".

Oh, shit. A pleasant shiver runs down my back, liquid fire expands in my belly and I have to suppress with every ounce of strength within me the smile that strains the corners of my mouth so Chloe won't notice because she'll bombard me with a game of a thousand questions which sole purpose is to upset my nerves. Why? Because that's the first notification I see on my Instagram after the handful of followers I have asked me to reveal my face through a poll I did on my stories.

The photo was taken by my best friend a couple of months ago when we went to celebrate her birthday at our favorite bar in downtown Santa Monica called "Velvet Rainbow", and although the lighting is lousy, my features are perfectly visible... which, if I'm totally honest, embarrasses me a bit. But all interactions so far have been positive—a pleasant surprise—, so much so that someone even asked if I've thought about becoming a model.

A model? Me? At this age? Yeah, I don't think that could work and that's without considering my innate shyness and ingrained stage fright.

"Are you sure you want to pay me back so soon, hottie?" Chloe interjects, alluding to the loan she provided me to pay for a lawyer to check the contract Elliot sent me, her pulse steady as she applies a thin layer of bright yellow eyeliner. Watching her meticulous makeup process has always been therapeutic for me, so I linger to register her words. "Because there's no rush, I can wait a little longer."

"No, Chloe. It's not fair to you. Besides, it's only three hundred bucks," I shrug, tucking my phone into my pants pocket before giving in again to the temptation to snoop through Elliot's accounts. That's something I refuse to make a habit of. "It's no big deal."

"But don't you have to pay the mortgage on your house?" She pauses, her gaze in the mirror showing me concern, and even though I appreciate it, I can't help but feel mortified. It's hard to accept being almost forty without having lived up to the expectations of others, without possessing a steady source of income and being forced to calculate every insignificant penny to survive another week of the vast calendar. But being a photographer has been my exclusive goal since I was in high school, it's my biggest dream. It would be unbearable to give it up without having fought until the last second, knowing that I could have done better, that I could have worked harder. "I know you don't like to talk about this subject, Ash, but don't let your pride get in the way of reality. I'm your friend and I'll be here when you need me."

"I know, Chlo," I smile, deciding that the heat in my cheeks is because of the elevated temperature and not because I'm blushing. "And I do appreciate it, but I promise I'm fine for now," the tension in her body dissolves because she knows me well enough to be aware that I don't usually promise anything lightly or without guarantees.

"Okay," she nods slowly, proceeding to tie her signature twin pigtails on the sides of her head with practiced precision, her collarbones hidden beneath the abundant, fierce curls. "Now that we've cleared that up, you can start spitting out the juicy details of what happened yesterday during your session with Frosty Cream."

"You have a fish's memory? I already told you all about it," I roll my eyes, because as soon as I walked through the door of her apartment fifteen minutes ago, I was accosted with a thorough interrogation that left me equal parts exhausted and stressed. When Chloe sets her mind to something, she's like a dog with a bone, impossible to dissuade.

"You were intentionally superficial with the information, Ash," she accuses sternly, and she's right, I was. Why? Perhaps out of precaution.

The business with Elliot is too fresh and unexplored to get a definite overview of my position and dare to fantasize about a safe future. I could still be fired at any time and that causes me to often be balancing on a tightrope, guard up and senses on high alert. And I've only interacted in person with the guy for a single day. What the hell will it be like a month from now? If I make it that far, that is. However, there's another disturbing ingredient in the mix. One I'm not prepared to confess, but that comes very close to selfishness. Elliot is an enigma to me; one so interesting that I want to uncover piece by patient piece, gently and yes, cautiously too, because I have a suspicion that I won't succeed using direct assaults or confrontations.