Very Bad Things
Page 40

“I just got taller,” I said politely.
“Sorry if that came out all wrong,” she said in a sugary voice. “I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings?”
I laughed. Fat chance. She’d hurt me enough just by being with Leo. “No, I did have a big butt. I had buck teeth and braces, too,” I said as Sebastian started singing Sir Mix-a-Lot’s “Baby Got Back.” I reached over and popped him in the arm while he laughed and tried to get away.
When Mila grinned at Tiffani-with-an-i with a sly gleam in her eye, I knew her fur had been rubbed the wrong way by Tiffani’s comments. She was going to bite back. “Speaking of being classy, Nora would never tell you herself, but she won the Miss Texas Rose pageant last fall. I saw the whole thing. Big honking diamante crown on her head, and a big-ass sash over her shoulder. It was sweeeet.”
Sebastian’s mouth gaped. “No way. Nora’s no pageant princess.”
I shrugged, not sure what to say.
Sebastian grinned. “Are you going to be in the Miss America pageant because that would be kinda cool. You’d be famous. Which reminds me: do you really glue the bottoms of your swim suit to your ass cheeks? You know, so it doesn’t move?”
They all turned to stare at me, and Leo had the strangest expression on his face, and it frightened me because I couldn’t interpret it. I hated the thought of him thinking I liked pageants. I didn’t want him thinking I needed people constantly telling me I was pretty. I knew I wasn’t.
My pageant experience didn’t start when I was a child, like those freaky kids you see on Toddlers and Tiaras, who tap dance in cowboy gear to “I’m Bringing Sexy Back.” No, I was fat then and a total embarrassment to Mother. Instead, I’d have been a shoo-in for the dreaded title of Best Personality.
But, when I was sixteen and finally slim, she’d suggested pageants. I’d done them to please her, reasoning that if other people thought I was pretty and loved me, then maybe she would, too.
I cleared my throat and looked at Leo and Sebastian. “Before you judge—little pun there—let me explain that in Texas, big hair and pageants are part of our heritage. And, I only won because of my piano talent. Those girls I competed against were beautiful and way out of my league.”
Tiffani-with-an-i shook her head as her eyes ran over me. “I just can’t see it.”
“I can see it,” Leo said softly.
Tiffani-with-an-i’s face tightened, but she kept talking. “Your mom talked non-stop about her son in Houston. Does he still live there? She liked me so well she wanted to set us up on a date, but of course, we don’t live in the same town,” she said with a little giggle.
“No . . . no, he lives in Houston, but he’s moving back at Christmas.”
“Oh. Tell your mother hello for me, will you? I’d love to meet up with her for lunch. Maybe I could get another spot on her show?” she said, her little piggy fingers rubbing Leo’s arm.
He smiled down at her. “Would you guys like some soda or water before you go?” he asked, looking back at us, and while Mila and Sebastian said no, I flicked my eyes at Tiffani-with-an-i’s wine glass.
Alcohol was just a party away.
He followed my eyes. “No alcohol tonight, Nora.”
Anger seared through me. He was not my father.
Sebastian chuckled, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “No problem, bro. These two hot babes are my dates, and I have a rep for taking care of my ladies.”
Hurt by Leo’s comment, I excused myself and went to the bathroom, mentally reciting words that helped me the most, repeating the definition and etymology. When that didn’t seem to work like it usually did, I opened my purse and stared at the coke I still had there. What would it be like to take it again? Would it make me feel good inside?
Maybe later tonight.
Leo was waiting for me when I came out of the bathroom. He grabbed my elbow firmly, steered me back inside, and locked the door.
“This is becoming a habit for you,” I seethed, jerking my arm away.
“What do you have on?” he seethed back, glaring at my dress.
“You don’t like it? I didn’t think you noticed.”
He rubbed his face with his hands and then stared at dress. “If there was ever a fucking dress I’ve ever noticed, it’s that one,” he muttered out. “You’re not wearing it to the party.”
“Are you even listening to yourself?” I snipped.
“Nora. Please. You can’t go out like that without me,” he demanded more urgently, with less anger, and I dreamed I heard a bit of a plea in his words.
I chewed on my bottom lip. “You said you had to let me go. You walked away from me so easily,” I reminded him, feeling all the fight drain away, leaving only sadness behind. “If that’s true, then why do you care? Why are you trying to stop me?”
He groaned out loud and closed the distance between us fast, thrusting his hands deep into my hair. “Fuck, I can’t stop this anymore,” he ground out hoarsely, pulling me against him. He tugged my face up by my hair. “This mouth is all I think about,” he whispered and pressed his lips to mine. While his hands held my head, his mouth dominated. Wild and raw, his lips sought mine over and over, claiming my mouth desperately, his hot tongue sucking and then dueling with mine. He bit at my lips, and I responded, our tongues in an erotic, open-mouthed tango. His lips glided across my jaw and down to my neck where he sucked harder and harder and then soothed the hurt with his tongue. I moaned.