Page 11 of Daisy Chain
“Fuck you.” I flip him the bird.
Lincoln and Asher laugh.
“Are you going to explain why you have pretty flowers on your back or not?” Lincoln asks.
“Not.” They’ll only give me shit over it.
With that, I leave them in the gym and make my way into the elevator and to my apartment. In the en suite, I strip out of my shorts, run the water in the shower, and step in when the temperature is ready. The spray hits my head and runs down the length of my body. I brace my hands on the tile walls and let the hot water soothe my aching muscles. There’s one muscle that aches every time I think of Daisy, and it’s not the first time I’ve jerked off with her image in my mind. What the fuck is up with that? Temporary madness, that’s what. But how temporary? It’s already been over a month. If I had known how much time she’d occupy my mind, I should’ve taken her home and fucked her out of my system.
After I’ve washed, I step from the shower and dry myself. I pad naked into my room. I wanted to tell the guys I’m skipping on the pizza and am going to the club. I’m guaranteed to find a woman or two to get Daisy off my mind.
Problem is, I’ve spent multiple nights at the club fucking women, and it hasn’t worked yet.
five
DAISY
Inmybedroom,Iturn from side to side, staring with wide eyes at my reflection. When Sally said she wanted to give me a makeover for our night out, this was not what I expected. No wonder she didn’t want me peeking until she was done. I look like a completely different person.
“I can’t leave the apartment looking like this,” I choke with shock.
Sally pushes off the bed, her face falling with disappointment. “You don’t like it?”
Leaning toward the mirror, I take a closer look at my face. Big black lashes flutter as I take it all in. Deep, smoky shadows emphasize my eyes. A subtle winged black eyeliner flicks from the corners. My skin is glowing. The makeup is flawless. It’s not what I’m used to. A swipe of mascara on my eyelashes and a brush of lip gloss, and I’m good to go. This is too much.
“It’s not that I don’t like it. You’ve done an amazing job. It just doesn’t suit me.”
“You look fabulous. It takes some time to get used to, that’s all.”
I take another long look. I’m not sure I could ever get used to this, and that’s only my face. Next, my gaze travels over my body and the clothes Sally put me in. She insisted on blindfolding me and dressed me like a toddler in a tight black miniskirt that barely covers my butt. If I wore this, which at this moment I’m seriously doubting I will, there’s no chance of bending down without flashing the goods.
Next, she put me in a fuchsia-colored, V-necked top that plunges so low it almost reaches my belly button, exposing my breasts and sitting precariously close to my nipples. I’m a nip slip waiting to happen. In fact, everything about this outfit is dangerously close to exposing something. What was Sally thinking? The only thing I’m comfortable with is my hair. My long blonde hair falls straight to the middle of my back, like I normally wear it. Maybe I should brush it over my shoulders and use it as a cover for my breasts. No, I won’t do that. This outfit is coming off.
“I can’t pull this off.” Sometimes I wish I could break free and be a little less conservative. Like Sally. Sometimes I wonder how two best friends can be so different. Yet, somehow, we work.
“It’s not too much. This is how women dress when they go clubbing. You’re probably a little overdressed.”
I wave a hand up and down my body. “Overdressed? What are women wearing… nothing?” It’s been a while since I’ve gone to a nightclub. It’s never been my scene. The times I have gone, I’ve worn way more than this, and Sally never had a problem with it.
She stands behind me and rests her hands on my shoulders. Our eyes meet in the reflection of the mirror. “Stop overthinking it. You’re hot. I wish you’d show off your amazing body more often.”
Working as an administrative officer for my father’s church, Fortitude Baptist Church, and attending service every Sunday, dressing modestly is part of my job. What if someone saw me wearing such revealing clothes? I take pride in my place in the church. Would it somehow reflect poorly on me?
“Can’t I wear something in my closet that I’m more comfortable in?” I fidget with the neckline of the top, trying to cover up more of my breasts.
Sally drops her hands and sits back on the bed. “It’s a club full of young people. No one will be dressed like they’re going to church.”
“I don’t dress like I’m going to church every day. I like my clothes,” I say defensively. Yet, reflecting on what’s in my closet, she’s probably right.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. You do have good taste in clothes.” As if sensing my dread, she says, “Look, if you’re not comfortable. I can find another top that’s not so revealing yet still trendy.”
“Speaking of the club. It isn’t a ‘try new things’ experience. We’ve gone to nightclubs before.”
“True, but it is anewclub. So technically, it is a ‘try new things’ experience. It’s supposed to be the most popular club in L.A. It’s tickets only and not easy to get into. Jacinta from work gave me her tickets. She can’t go because she had a family emergency out of town this weekend.”
I run my hands over my hips. With generous breasts and round hips, these clothes cling to every curve, making me feel naked. “Do you really think I can pull this off?”
“Hell yes! Those clothes are made for you. You're young and hot. Get out there and enjoy life.”
