Page 97 of My Lucky Star
“No! It’s nothing like that. He was a bit rough with my hair, but it doesn’t hurt anymore, and it looks great, right?”
I swiped a glossy lock over my shoulder, but catching the look on his face, my hand froze mid-motion.
“He hurt you?” Cem exhaled the words without moving his jaw, a vein on his temple ticking.
Sensing where this was going, I locked my hands around his arm. I couldn’t physically stop him, but maybe, if I applied my entire body weight, I could slow him down. “I get that this is some kind of Turkish alpha male thing, but can you reel it in? You’re scaring me.”
Cem frowned. “I can’t let anyone hurt you. It’s on me.”
“It’s really not! They don’t know we’re... together. I’m supposed to be your fake girlfriend.”
His frown deepened, tinged with confusion. “No! I mean, okay... But I don’t like this.”
Cem released a breath, and his shoulders dropped half an inch. “I don’t trust him. I only agreed to Melis... but Emir said she can’t color hair. She’ll do your makeup, though.”
Makeup? I’d slapped on some foundation and mascara before leaving the boat, naively thinking that would be enough.
“Great.” I smiled, covering my surprise. “That means Savas is done, and he’ll be leaving. We can forget about him.” I stroked my hands down his solid arm, telling myself I was only trying to stop a violent clash of the veiny arms and veiny temples, not working up another lady boner. But yes, I was thinking about the explosive strength residing within those muscles and tendons and veins... Maybe I had a thing for veins?
Or, more alarmingly, I had a thing for Cem and his possessive caveman jealousy.
As if on cue, Savas wheeled his luggage past us, giving Cem a thunderous look on his way out. Melis wobbled behind him, carrying the portable wash basin he’d used in the bathroom.
“Let me help you.” Cem launched forward, trying to take it off her, but she shook her head, scurrying out of his reach. “No need. I’ll be back soon.”
Melis closed the door behind them, clearly as concerned as I was about creating distance between the two guys.
“See? He’s gone.” I waved at the door.
Cem’s shoulders dropped a bit more and he followed me back to the dining room. “I’m so tired,” he groaned as he collapsed in a chair, and I joined him in a particularly face-stretching yawn.
Five minutes later, Melis found us both resting against the dining table like two blackout drunks. “Allah, Allah!”
I pushed myself upright. “Sorry. Is it time for makeup?”
Melis slammed a giant toolbox on the table and opened it. I peered in at the wide array of brushes and products. “Wow. Did you do this onAskta Sansli?”
“Only as a backup. I borrowed this kit from a colleague. But I’m good.”
I smiled. “Of course.”
I followed her instructions, turning left and right, closing my eyes, then staring at the ceiling, wondering what she was doing to me, while Cem slept against the uncomfortably hard glass top table. I kept my voice low, happy to see him getting some rest. When I saw Melis pull out a pair of eyelash extensions, I cheered to myself. Cem would get a bit more sleep. In fact, I wasn’t going to wake him up at all. I’d let Emir be the bad guy – he was so good at it.
As I suspected, Emir marched in on Melis powdering my forehead. “Time to go.” He brushed down the wrinkled dress shirt he must have slept in and covered it up by buttoning his jacket. His hair stuck out on the side.
I exchanged a quick look with Melis, who moved in with a bottle of hairspray and styled it to perfection, despite his protests.
Cem woke up to the commotion and got up, too. His hair looked even messier, but Melis returned to powdering my face, even though I was certain none of my actual skin was still visible or causing any concern.
Finally, she stepped aside, and I made it up on my spiky heels, swaying like Felix. Thinking of him made me oddly homesick. I imagined myself sitting in a cafe with my triple shot flat white, comfortable in my own jeans and sneakers, being myself. I had to shake the image. Not today.
I found my balance, grabbed the hairspray, and approached Cem. “Your hair’s a bit...”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Melis’s eyes widen in reverence as I touched his curls, straightening out the tangles he’d created. She’d done the same to Emir, yet her response told me this was completely different. I was touching Cem, the immortal creature they idolized but didn’t consider the same species. Maybe Burcu could have fixed his hair, but not me – another ‘nobody’.
Cem didn’t seem to mind. Before I could pull my hand back, he caught my wrist. “You look exactly like Burcu.” He frowned.
“That’s good, right?”
