"I need something to wear." I demanded, shoving open Eli's door, not bothering to knock or tell him hello, or that I missed him, or all the other things I had planned to say. I was too pissed off at Collins to exchange pleasantries.
"Well hello to you too, gorgeous." Eli said ruefully, his chest deliciously bare, and a dark blue dress shirt laid out on his bed. It was the same shirt I admired when he would wear it at Christmas or to dances in high school. I was surprised it still fit.
"I'm sorry. Hello." I grinned, stepping into his outstretched arms, my cheek pressed to his warm bare chest. His heart beat fiercely from the close contact and if it wasn't for the room full of strangers downstairs I would insist we forget clothing all together.
"I missed you." Eli admitted and I pulled back smiling too brightly. Casual Avery, keep it fucking casual.
"I missed you too, handsome." I purred, stepping out from his arms. "In fact, I missed you so much I wore this to welcome you home..." I pulled the sash and dropped the trench coat to the floor, relishing in the way his sapphire eyes grew tenfold.
"Holy shit." He reached out for me again, opening and closing his long fingers, but I dodged him, giggling.
"That was before I knew we wouldn't be alone."
"We're alone now..."
"You know I can't keep quiet." I smirked, and he groaned.
"That doesn't help." He motioned to the protrusion growing in his dark grey slacks. "The thought of you beneath me, screaming my name, while you're standing there, looking like that is the worst kind of torture."
"Well you can thank Collins for that. She failed to mention that we were all invited to a dinner party over here tonight."
"How convenient." Eli laughed, knowing my sister and her devious nature over the span of sixteen years. I grunted in agreement and walked to his closet, my high heels digging into his carpet.
"Do you still have your yellow karate belt from eighth grade?" I asked over my shoulder, fingering through his section of black t-shirts. Eli's closet was color coordinated and flawless despite not being utilized for the past four years.
"I think so." I could hear him rummaging around his dresser behind me. "If you wanted to tie me up, all you'd have to do is ask..." He handed the belt out to me and circled his free hand around my waist, but I danced away again.
"Are you always so perverted?" I jabbed, pulling a plan black t-shirt from the hanger.
"Only with you, babe." Eli leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms across his naked chest. Would he just put his damn shirt on already?!
"I'm sure." I rolled my eyes, pulling the cool cotton material over my head. The shirt swallowed me, hitting just above my knees, having the effect I was intending. "I'm sure none of the girls in Vancouver for the past four years made you feel all hot and bothered..."
"I'm not saying they didn't." Eli shrugged, finally crossing the room to donn his dress shirt. "But honestly it was always just sex with them. It wasn't like this..."
"Oh yeah, and what is this like?" I challenged, securing the yellow belt snugly around my waist, tying it in an intricate bow in the front of the T-shirt.
"This is sex, obviously, but with my best friend, someone I trust one hundred percent, and it just makes the whole thing so much more...intense." My breath caught somewhere in my throat. "I'm sorry. Was that too much? I know we agreed to take it easy."
"No. It's not too much." I turned, busying my hands so he couldn't see the way they were shaking. The truth was, I felt the exact same way. Sure, this was my first sexual relationship, but I had lived enough to know a connection like ours was unusual.
"I think your parents are here..."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because Collins is standing in my doorway..." Eli's voice was amused, but I bristled. That no good, two faced, manipulative little...
"Good evening, Elijah." Collins purred, her voice dripping with fragile girlish insecurity, that was so far from the truth.
"Good evening, Collins." Eli responded, his voice sexy and laid back like it always was in high school. Like you would expect one of the most popular men on the planet to sound. Meanwhile, I on the other hand was desperately grasping at every ounce of self control I could muster.
"Hey, sis." Collins chirped, crossing her hands behind her back all prim and proper.
"Hi." I breezed, begging my voice to sound self assured, but it quivered with anger.
"Cute outfit..." She prodded, but I refused to take the bait.
"Yeah, you too." I smirked, her ivory lace sleeved dress a far cry from her usual skin tight attire. "Did you borrow that from mom?"
"It was one of hers from when she used to tour with dad. Very vintage."
"Vintage. Ha." I deadpanned.
"At least it fits me..." Anger flashed through my green eyes. It wasn't my fault I was taller than our tiny mother. Still, it was something that Collins continuously made me feel self conscious about.
"You little bi-"
"Girls?" My mother's voice called, coming up the stairs. As if on cue, her tiny blonde figure emerged in a beautiful emerald wrap dress that made her eyes pop. At least I got those enchanting eyes while Collins got my father's cat-like hazel yellow eyes.
"Sorry, mother we were just telling Elijah hello." Collins cooed but my mom frowned, being immune to Collins' games.
"Well there's a room full of people down there waiting to eat, so why don't we get a move on?"
Collins nodded and led the way, followed by my mother, and Eli and I taking up the rear, descending the staircase with my arm looped through his, pretending it was for balance even if it was just because we were desperate to touch one another. A concept I knew wasn't lost on my mother as she turned and smiled brightly at me, taking in our entangled limbs for exactly what they were...a promise of what was to come.
*************
The people at the West's famous dinner parties were always the most interesting kind. They were an eclectic mix of music industry professionals, actors and actresses, and normal people like me.
"So how do you and Elijah West know each other?" A particularly busty brunette actress cooed, standing a little too close for comfort.
"We've been best friends literally since we were born." Eli flirted back and I gripped my red wine glass so painfully tight I worried it may shatter. I suppose he was telling the truth, we had been friends since the day I was born, but to me it seemed like so much more than that. Especially after the other night, with our naked tangled bodies and sexual transaction.
"I'm going to get something to drink." I smiled brightly at the girl, not even bothering to look at Eli or my still full glass of Cabernet. I was sure he wouldn't even notice that I was gone, with miss Academy Award looking all doey eyed at him.
The worst part was that I knew I couldn't say anything, watching them flirt shamelessly back and forth on the balcony, because Eli didn't owe me anything. We were just friends, just casual for the summer.
I bit harshly into a spinach cream cheese puff the waiter was passing and washed it down with a healthy slug of my wine.
"What in the hell are you wearing?" A familiar raspy voice chided behind me and I turned to find my father in all of his tattooed glory, standing drinking a beer in a black dress shirt pushed up at the sleeves. It wasn't lost on me that every woman that wasn't actively staring at Eli was staring at my father. He had aged gracefully with hardly any grey in his silky longer blonde hair and his rope-like muscles had maintained their shape with little physical activity.
"It's just a dress." I insisted but he scoffed.
"It looks more like you just went upstairs and threw on one of Elijah's old t-shirts." I begged my cheeks not to pink.
"It's called fashion, Daddy." He rolled his eyes, but another man was quick to agree.
"I have to agree...Daddy." The flamboyantly gay man with the thick French accent ventured, and my father raised his eyebrows at the nickname coming from a grown man's lips. "I'm Franc Blanchet." He kissed each of our cheeks and my father looked delightfully uncomfortable.
"Asher Adams, and this is my daughter Avery."
"Enchante Miss Avery." Franc looked at me delighted by Eli's T-shirt dress and karate belt that was so out of place in this high brow dinner party. "I have to say I love your style, you are precisely what I have been looking for..."
"Excuse me?!" My father stepped in front of me a little and I wanted to roll my eyes. It was so clear that he was more of Franc's type, but still he acted like this guy had just openly propositioned me.
"She is exactly what I've been looking for in a client..." Franc handed each of us a card from his suit jacket pocket.
Franc Blanchet
Blanchet Modeling
Paris, France
Was all the business card said with an international phone number and an email address at the bottom.
"A modeling agency?" My father frowned and I flipped the card over a few times between my chipped black fingernail polish. This guy must have had too much of the expensive champagne already.
"Oh my gosh, yes!" Vanessa West, Eli's mother breezed through our small gathering. She was absolutely stunning, every bit of the six foot Brazilian bombshell even at forty that you would imagine her to be. She was a supermodel. Not me standing here in her son's failed attempt at karate belt from the eighth grade. "Avery would be absolutely perfect for European runway." She kissed both of my cheeks, smelling like fresh cut lilacs.
I watched awkwardly as she hugged my father for a moment too long. It was only natural to be drawn to him, everyone was.
"You should seriously consider it." She turned back toward me, her grey eyes blazing silver. They always seemed to sparkle when she was excited. "Franc only signs one girl every few years, really the creme de la creme."
"With the first one being my masterpiece." Franc complimented, spinning Vanessa in place and her dark hair fanned around her, catching the eye of every man in the room. Aside from her husband, who was enamored by something my own mother was saying. His tanned hand rested on her arm as he threw his head back and laughed.
I glanced to my father, hoping he would miss the exchange, but his eyes were locked onto her. For years, he would joke that Reid West loved my mother, which she would say was nonsense. She would stroke my father's cheek and tell him it 'had been years'. Years since what exactly, I couldn't be sure.
"Excuse me." My father grunted before crossing the room and putting a territorial arm around my mother's waist, smirking victoriously as Reid took a step back.
"Seriously, think about it." Franc said next to me and I tore my gaze away from the weird love triangle in front of me.
"Think about what?"
"My offer. European. Modeling. Runway. I'm looking to send a girl at the end of the summer. Around September." He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and I shuttered.
"I'm not a model." I insisted, searching for Eli who was still shamelessly flirting with the actress. I watched horrified as she handed him a small piece of paper. Her number.
"You are my dear. You just have to stop doubting yourself long enough to see your own beauty..." Franc murmured and he didn't know how close to home that hit. "Aurevoir, beaute." And with that he was gone, his business card burning a hole through the flesh of my palm...