“You’re adorable.”
“I’m glad you think so. Most people think I’m a grumpy asshole who keeps to himself.”
“Not anymore they don’t. You were at the Biscuit last night with the guys, and I saw Jonesy in Bio and he said you’re taking the guys fishing on Sunday?”
“Look at me, being all social. Yeah, the weather’s getting colder, but we can get a couple hours in. A couple of the guys have never been, which I don’t understand. It’s like the ultimate in chill-time.”
“Sounds wonderful, and I mean that sincerely. I’m also glad you’re not making me go, but I am happy you’re bonding with your guys.”
“Me, too.” And I never would have done it without her. It’s not a conscious thing, really. I just keep to myself because I need to focus, to practice, or, honestly, to sleep. But once Paige started coming around, I found myself down in the living room more. She’s always chatting with someone— asking about their classes, their girlfriends and that type of stuff. Hell, somehow she even knew Petrov’s parents had to put the family dog to sleep and she spent twenty minutes commiserating with him.
My girlfriend is the shit.
“So, can we get this party started, or do you need to edit?”
“Nope. I’m good. I just need to save it so I can film the rest tonight.” She presses a few buttons, then looks up with a mischievous gleam. “Wait until you see what I have in store for you.”
“I’m honestly terrified.”
“It’s probably warranted. Now, let me up so I can put this stuff away and grab the supplies.”
She begins to put her makeup back into the designated drawers. I learned a few weeks ago that Paige has a very specific system of organization and that even when I think I’m helping, I’m really not. That was also the day I learned that lip liners and eyeliners might look the same on the outside, but they clearly do very different jobs.
So, I sit back and watch that gorgeous ass as she bends over to put tools and products away. “So you never told me what today’s topic was. Am I going to have to watch like everyone else, or do I get special, boyfriend-only intel?”
“Look at my face,” she says.
“Gladly,” I reply and do as she asks. “Is this all today’s video was? Just looking at you? Because I can totally do that.”
She peers at me, bracing both hands on the armrest of the chair. I’m getting some very dirty visuals of the things she and I could do in this chair. “Ha! No, that would be both boring and creepy. Look at both sides of my face. Can you tell a difference?”
I can’t. Am I supposed to? Is this some test of how well I know her? Shit. “Uh...no...but, wait. Is your eyeshadow a tiny bit different on your left eye? Like, not as dark or like, saturated, or whatever? I mean, it’s still pink, but not as pink-y?”
“Ding, ding ding! Give the handsome goalie a prize. The product on my left eye is a little less pigmented, and my bronzer is a little too shimmery on that side, too. I did a split face video. My right side is top-shelf, high-end products, and my left side is the knock-off or drugstore brand of the same product. I call itWorth the Splurge?and it’s always fun to see how they compare. There’s not a huge difference visually, except for slight differences in pigmentation, like you said. The real test will come tonight when I see how much has stayed on. Typically, the higher end stuff is longer-lasting, but we’ll see.”
I know there’s a big, goofy smile on my face, but I can’t help myself.
“What?” she says, the suspicion clear in her voice.
“You’re pretty fucking awesome,” I tell her.
She shakes her head and looks away. “It’s not that hard to put makeup on your face.”
“Uh, actually, I think it kind of is. There are all these products and steps and decisions, and I bet that’s really overwhelming for a lot of people. But it’s more than that. You’re showing people what products are worth their money, and how to get the look they want at the best price they can. And you’re giving them options and choices. You’re always so upbeat and sincere. And those things are fucking awesome. Therefore, you are fucking awesome.”
I know this kind of praise makes her antsy, but I had to say it. She thanks me with a quick kiss to my lips. And even though I want to pull her back into my lap and see where this kiss can lead, I’m not surprised when she pulls away and puts her hands on her hips.
“You’re not getting out of this.”
My hands go up in mock surrender. “Wasn’t trying to. I just would rather kiss you than do whatever makeup thing you’re going to make me do.”
She laughs. “Don’t look so nervous. It’s not torture. Besides, didn’t you just tell me I’m awesome at teaching people to put makeup on?”
“You are, no doubt. But I’ve got freckles to cover and a full beard and I’m nervous as fuck that you’re gonna put that eyelash curler within two feet of my eyes.”
“You need to trust me, Spence. I have to film myself teaching someone a skill, just like you did. And this was our deal: If I got a shot on you, I got to pick the topic of our tutorial.”
She’s right, but… “You had help! It was supposed to be just you and me. I did not expect half my team to skate at me!”
