Page 39 of The Temptation of Truth
A rock starwith a girlfriend.
I straighten my shoulders and work to tame my smile.
Just a night out with a friend.
As we approach the hallway with the dressing rooms, Jones lifts a walkie-talkie and announces my arrival. A voice I recognize as my uncle’s tells him to leave me withthe girls, which I take to mean Mabel and Sav. Jones drops the walkie to his side and nods to the hall.
“Their suite’s on the right. Just head in.”
“Thanks.”
He leaves, and I stare down the hallway. I didn’t pay attention when I was here this afternoon. It took me four tries to find the room where I was supposed to meet Uncle Wade, and as I walk slowly toward the dressing room doors, my stomach starts to turn somersaults.
“Suite on the right,” I whisper as I step in front of the first door and turn to face it. “Shoulders back. Chin up.”
I turn the knob and open the door.
And then all oxygen is sucked from my lungs.
Run, my body screams.Get out of here.
But I can’t. I can’t move. I can’t even blink. I just stand there, cemented to the spot with my hand superglued to the door handle, and watch as the scene before me becomes achingly clear and technicolor.
Mabel’s with someone.
Someone tall, and glossy, and gorgeous. Long dark hair. Golden skin. They’re wrapped together, lips locked, handseverywhere. I catch a glimpse of the woman’s long, red-painted nails as they glide up Mabel’s side. Mabel laughs, and it feels like a knife, sexy and serrated, right into my chest. The woman gasps, the sound strangled and thick with arousal. My nipples peak, and my stomach roils.
Then, just as I am finally able to rip my feet from the floor, the woman’s eyes open and land right on me.
“Get out! Get the fuck out!”
Her screams jolt me from my daze, and I back away. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry?—”
“Get the fuck out of here!”
I turn and bolt. The door shuts behind me, and I’m halfway down the hall, running to I have no idea where, when it opens again.
“Aurora, wait! Hold on.”
I freeze, but I don’t turn around. I listen to Mabel’s footsteps as she gets closer, the sound surprisingly light considering the thick platforms. When her hand wraps around my bicep, I bring mine to my face.
“I’m sorry. Jones told me to go in. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I should have knocked. I didn’t?—”
“Breathe.” Mabel squeezes my arm. “Breathe. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”
“But she—she sounded so...”
Pissed.
“It was my fault. I should have locked the door. Honestly. It’s not your fault. Are you okay?”
I drop my arms to my sides, tipping my head up toward the ceiling. I can’t look at her yet. My face burns with embarrassment. Visions of Mabel and that woman flash behind my eyelids. My heart stays racing. My nipples stay peaked. My nausea increases.
“I’m fine. I just...God. I’m just really sorry. I reallydid notwant to see that.”
Mabel chuckles, but then the distance between our bodies shrinks. Despite my thoughts from just moments earlier, this proximity brings no excitement. It’s all wrong. She smells like orange blossom and something muskier. Not the fun and flirty gardenia and fruit blend I’ve come to associate with her. No. This is a sexy smell. Sensual. It clouds the thoughts in my head until I can feel my heartbeat in my temples.
“Look...I trust you, okay? I do. But Kat wants me to make absolute certain you aren’t going to tell anyone about this.”
