Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned 3) - Page 79

I shrugged. “A thousand a month.”

She gasped. “Seriously?” I could only stare blankly at her. She shook her head in disbelief and uttered, “You have no idea how much rent is in this city, do you, cupcake?”

My throat thickened. Oh no. What had Nat and Ash done now? No louder than a whisper, I asked, wide-eyed, “How much?”

Her lip tilted up in the corner as she thought about it. “For a decent place like this, I’d say between two and a half to three grand a month. Maybe even more with the tight security.”

No shit.

I whispered, “No shit.”

She nudged my shoulder with her arm and smiled down at me. “You’re lucky to have a family who loves you so much.”

Still shaken by the onslaught of information, I muttered to nobody in particular, “I’m beginning to see that.”

Nat had called me in emotional hysterics the day she and Ash had accidentally slept in, not being able to take me to work. The devious part of my mind told me to milk it for all it was worth, to lay on a guilt trip so thick that Nat would forever do what I asked. But then I realized that not only during my time here had she been wonderful, supportive, and loving, but that she and Ash had undergone serious changes in their lives without complaint. I soon remembered I would forever be in their debt for making my transition to New York as painless as it could be.

Also, I loved them.

James had happily accepted the duty of taking me to work and home again, if it wasn’t too weird for me—his words. I was totally okay with this. Not only did it mean my sister and her husband would be able to sleep in, taking some of my guilt away, but I would be able to spend a little time with James, one-on-one. Nat wasn’t too sure about that. I argued I needed to make friends here. She returned that the only friend I needed was her. The turd. To my utter shock, it was Ash who had talked Nat into letting this happen. He told Nat it was natural to feel protective of me, but James seemed like ‘an okay guy’.

I could’ve kissed him then.

Okay, okay. I did kiss him. A big fat smooch he had no chance in hell of escaping, right on the lips. He screwed up his face and cringed. I winked and blew him another kiss. He rolled his eyes at me, but I felt the love. So I guess it shouldn’t have shocked me that Ash would give me a bogus rent figure. But I was kind of pissed about it. More sore about it than pissed, I guess.

Covering my face with my hands, I groaned out loud. “Oh God, is that what I am? The poor sister? Ugh. That sucks assholes.”

Felicity just laughed. “Don’t sweat it. I’m sure they’re going to ask you to babysit when they have kids, and they’ll do it knowing you can’t say no.”

I sobered in an instant. “Wow, do you know my sister? Because I think you spiritually channeled her there for a second.” Staring down at her offending suitcase, I ask carefully, “So, what you got in there? A severed head?”

Smiling like the Cheshire cat, she simply raised her brows, knelt down, and unzipped the bag. She peeled back the lid to unveil a portable salon. “I told you we’d make Max see you, didn’t I? I’m making good on that.”

Already shaking my head, I objected. Strongly. “No, no, no, no, no, no. N-O. No.”

Felicity smiled at me. Her bazillion dollar grin. And a smiling Felicity was something to be reckoned with. She was so damn pretty I felt I would change teams for her. “Listen, I’m not asking you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, just to let me do your makeup and dress you tonight, is all. How bad could that be? You won’t even have to pick your underwear. I’ll make it easy for you.”

I could see there was no fighting this. She had that look in her eyes. I let out a long, agonizing breath. “No short skirts. No short shorts. Nothing that’ll show my legs.”

A confused look crossed her face. She looked down at my uncovered legs and bunched her nose. “Why the hell not? You’ve got killer legs. I mean, they’re not tall, but they’re shapely and firm.” She reached down to pinch the skin of my thigh, unable to get a grip. “They’re tight, bitch. What gives?”

How to explain without sounding nuts? “Okay. This was the way it worked back home. Nina showed leg. Nat showed leg and boob. I, however, only showed a bit of cleavage. I never really liked my legs, but I like my rack. Not wanting to show too much, I always chose to expose rack, rather than leg. Capisce?”

She looked at me dumbfounded for half a minute before gaping. “You’re dumb as shit, baby. You’re lucky you’re cute to boot.” With that sentence, she showed me why I liked her. She reminded me of the relationship I have with my sisters. I loved that.

Saying that, we barely agreed on clothing. We almost got into fisticuffs over it. Finally, I decided on a multicolored green leaf-print chiffon number. The dress was long, but draped and sheer, requiring a miniskirt underneath, and showing a healthy amount of boobage. After having tried it on and examining it under every possible light source, I deemed it okay. When I gave in, Felicity almost collapsed with gratitude. “Thank fuck for that! Moving on!”

She spent a good part of the next hour doing my hair and makeup, lightly curling my dark hair, leaving it in long tresses down my back, and making my eyes dark-rimmed and smoky.

I had to admit…I liked the way she did it. It looked hot, and that’s not a word I would use to describe myself.

We argued again over shoes. I didn’t like heels, never did. I liked strappy sandals or low-heeled wedges. This was simply a comfort

thing. I tried on eight pairs of shoes before Felicity let me off wearing nude strappy sandals. Thank the Lord. With myself done, Felicity got to work on herself. If I hadn’t have seen it myself, I wouldn’t have believed it. She managed to get herself looking supermodel-runway-ready in forty minutes. And I secretly hated her for it.

She decided on a white button-up dress. Who knew she could make something so wholesome look so sexy. Undoing the top three buttons to let her black bra show, she wrapped a black belt tightly around her waist and slid on a pair of black strappy sandals. Looking down at her shoes, I scowled at her.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. If you were as tall as I am, you’d get it. Try meeting a guy looking like an Amazon. Guys don’t like chicks being taller than them. Sad, but true.” Running her fingers through her hair, she put on a ton of mascara and glossed her lips, then folded up the short sleeves of her dress and turned to me, grinning from ear to ear. “We look good, baby, but I swear to God if Max doesn’t notice you tonight, looking the way you do, I’ll buy you a dozen of those cupcakes you like in consolation.”

Tags: Belle Aurora Friend-Zoned Romance
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