Yours Book 1: Losing My Innocence (9 page)

BOOK: Yours Book 1: Losing My Innocence
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“I was confused about us. I didn’t like what happened in the meeting today. I felt like I lost control of things and I was embarrassed and hurt.”

Nick’s face softens and his fingertips trail along my cheek. “Baby, I thought I explained that to you. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I’m sorry if I did hurt you.” He sighs and shakes his head as if to clear it and takes a step back releasing me. He begins to pace the room and I instantly mourn the loss of his touch. “Sit Sephora, we need to talk.”

Chapter Eight
The Wait


I
have been drawn
to you from the moment I looked into your eyes. It wasn’t the color, don’t get me wrong. The color of your eyes is intriguing. What I saw was something deep within them.

At that time in my life I felt like nothing in life was meant for me or meant to make me happy, but the way you looked at me. The innocence in your eyes and your eagerness to please, tore through me like a hand seeking to touch my dead soul.

“I know I have pursued you aggressively, but all of the greatest treasures are won through aggressive actions. You are the greatest treasure I will ever possess and I intend to possess you, Sephora, all of you. I want to coax the woman I saw inside your eyes out for my pleasure and your own.

“I want to find myself in you Sephora. I’ve been lost for so long and now…,” Nick stops pacing and sits beside me. He closes his eyes tightly as his thumb brushes across my lower lip. I can see the pain in his face.
What happened to this beautiful man to cause such hurt?

His words are supposed to help me see things more clearly, but they are confusing me more. I have no control over my own life, how can I offer a man like Nick anything. “Trust me Sephora. Trust me and I will help you find what you are looking for,” I want to trust him. I want the promise I see in his jade eyes as they speak of things I want to explore more than anything.

“Even when my best friend, that I would give my life for, asked me to back off I couldn’t because I couldn’t remain in my darkness knowing that light is right before me. Luke and I have talked this over for four years now.

“I have waited so long to claim you for myself. Longing to hold you and watching from a distance, hoping you remained the innocent girl that woke my heart from an aching slumber. I promised Luke I would let you make this decision for yourself, but I am not a man that walks away from what he wants easily.”

Just like that the shutters come down. One statement and I am done with this conversation, the man sitting before me and the years I’ve wasted wanting him. My lower lip trembles with the tears I refuse to cry before him.

Luke once again spoils what I want. He has ruined me being an adult that is smart enough to live her own life. If Luke and Nick are so close that they can spend four years planning my love life, they can have each other. I want nothing to do with Nick and my brother is going to get a bigger piece of my mind than I originally planned.

“Can you just go,” I choke out.

His head whips back as if I’ve struck him. I can’t look him in the eyes. I turn my head and watch the door, pointedly telling him to use it. From my peripheral vision I can see him open and close his mouth once again, then he pulls a hand across his jaw. A jaw that only moments ago I wanted to kiss. With a nod, he stands and walks to the door.

Without turning he sighs heavily and speaks. “Four years, Sephora. That’s how long I have waited for you. That is how long I have known what I have wanted.”

I watch as he exits the room just as I had done this afternoon. Once the door shuts the panic sets in. Was he telling me that I just totally blew it. I feel silly and immature. The tears I have been holding back start to spill over. This is the worst day of my life. This is a classic Sephora Emilsson day. Only I can completely make a mess of having everything I want.
Way to go Sophi.

I flung myself on my bed and start to sob into my pillow. I sob for the girl that never got to tell her father how betrayed she felt when he tried to take away the one thing she was ever good at. I cry for the twenty-two-year-old woman whose brother insists on planning and dictating her life every step of the way.

Hell, I wanted the experience of looking for my own apartment, but he and Nick took care of all of that for me. Even hiring a decorator and organizer to take care of all the furnishings and unpacking. Kimmie and I spent two days learning our way around our own things and still I don’t know where to find some of my things.

I cry because when I look in the mirror now I don’t see Sephora. I see who everyone else wants Sephora to be. Nick was right about one thing. I like my dark hair, but Ettie thought it would look better lighter with highlights. If I were asked I may have allowed the highlights, but I would have kept to my hair color.

I wouldn’t mind wearing my glasses either. I sob some more because I wonder if Nick was telling the truth, did he see something in the girl he first met? Would he still want to be with me as the Sephora with the glasses and plain Jane clothes? Most of all I cry because I just realized that I don’t even know who the real Sephora is. I have been Sophi, my family’s Lilla du, for so long that I don’t think I would recognize myself if I looked in a mirror. Eventually, I sob myself to sleep because I don’t know how to find her and I don’t think I will ever get a chance to find out what Nick really feels.

* * *


D
ude
, wake up,” I hear chuckling in my ear as someone gently shoves me. “You can’t invite a guy to spend his Saturday with you and sleep it away.”

“Sorry,” I murmur into my pillow.

“No problem as long as you get up before I have to tickle you awake,” Mark says into my ear and places his hand in position to tickle me if I don’t move.

“I’m up, I’m up,” I snap and toss my pillow at him.

“There’s my girl,” Mark chuckles, rolling onto his back and lying beside me.

I sit up and stretch while wincing at a monster headache. I need a shower and a hot towel to wrap my face in. One of the very few helpful tips my mother has ever taught me. I scoot down the bed passing Mark’s long legs and climb out of bed.

“Can you give me about a half hour,” I ask over my shoulder as I rummage around for my glasses.

“No problem,” Mark hops off my bed and starts for the door. He reaches for the knob, then turns on his heels. “Soph, if you want to talk, you know Kimmie and I are always here for you. I know he is my boss and all, but you are my friend, I always want to see you happy.”

All I can do is nod at him as my memories of last night return. Mark gives me one of his bright smiles and leaves, leaving me to my scrambled thoughts. One thing is for certain, I need to figure a whole lot out before Monday morning.

I wonder if I can get out of my job contract. I don’t know if I can handle having to work for Nick knowing I blew my chances with him. The thought of seeing him in the office, or better yet, seeing him in the office with someone else like Jillian makes me sick to my stomach. My thoughts are only increasing my headache so I stand under the hot spray, letting the hot water pound the tension from my head and my body.

By the time I step out of the shower and dress my headache is gone, but my thoughts are no better than when I stepped into the shower. A day of gaming with Mark is just what I need. We have been developing some cool ideas since our sophomore year when we both took more of an interest in apps and game design.

It’s the one thing that no one has ever had a hand in. I started taking the classes and never told anyone but Kimmie and Mark about it. If I mentioned it to Luke he would have either tried to talk me out of it or insisted on becoming involved in it somehow, taking away all my control.

I walk into our guestroom slash office to find Kimmie and Mark hovering over his laptop. Kimmie is actually wearing her glasses which she never does unless she has been sitting at the computer for hours and her contacts start to annoy her. Unlike me, even with glasses, Kimmie is totally sexy. With her messy bun piled at her nape, her skinny jeans and tank top she looks like a model just taking a moment to relax.

I touch the messy mass that is my bun and wonder if my makeover should bother me so much. I mean hanging with Kimmie and Ettie, does it really matter. Sighing I pull the band from my hair and run my fingers through the wavy mass so that I can hide in the layers just the way I have done my entire life.

“Sophi, you have to check this out,” Kimmie sings, she thinks Mark is a gaming genius which he is. “The new additions he made since I last saw you guys work on this one are amazing.”

I lean over Mark’s shoulder and smile. I had been griping that we could do so much better with the character design and he has worked wonders with the design since I last seen it. The characters look just like the three of us except my character is a lot prettier than I am.

“That looks great Mark. But your Sophi is a whole lot more beautiful than the real one,” I snort.

“In your dreams. I could never make her as perfect as you,” Mark says with a serious expression on his face. I blush and look away from him and back at the computer screen. “Soph, why do you do that? You were beautiful before the makeover, but you never see it. You’re beautiful on the inside and outside.”

I turn and just stare at Mark. He is very serious; I have never seen him like this. I shift on my feet uncomfortable with his comments and his stare. Without thinking I start to hide behind my hair even more.

Kimmie clears her throat and saves me from the awkward moment. “Let’s see what we can do with this game play. I think it still needs work. I don’t mind helping out. I had nothing planned today. Maybe we can hit a club or something tonight.”

I blink away my confusion and look back at Mark’s computer. Something hits me just then. Mark’s words and the image looking back at me from his computer. He replicated me with my natural hair color. The color Nick said he preferred, but most of all the color I loved. Suddenly, I know what I want to do today.

“Actually, Mark don’t be mad, but I sort of need to do something today. I promise to go to any club you guys want me to go to later to make up for it,” I plead.

“I’ll forgive you just for the chance to see you in an actual club,” Mark chuckles.

“Great,” I clasp my hands. “I’ll meet you guys here tonight.”

Chapter Nine
The Real Me


H
ey Amy
, thanks so much for seeing me last minute,” I smile as Amy draws me in for a hug.

“No problem, Sophi,” Amy grins and places her hand on her hip. “So you came to let me cut some more hair off.”

I shake my head shyly. “No,” I bite my lip nervously as I wince, wrinkle my nose and give her a small smile. “I love what you did with my hair, Amy. The highlights are great. It’s just I want my color back. Yanno, do you think you can make it dark again.”

“Sure honey, how about keeping some of the highlights to soften up your natural color, something less dramatic, but perfect for this face,” Amy suggests and gives me a wink.

“I think I’d like that,” I nod my head eagerly.

“Well, let’s get to work.” Amy turns the chair for me to sit so she can place the apron around me and her assistant comes over to offer me a beverage. I melt into the chair. Phase one of my plan is in effect.

Two hours later Amy gives me a huge smile and claps her hands together. “Are you ready to see,” she bounces. Her excitement is contagious. I nod enthusiastically and she turned the chair to face the mirror.

I gasp at the sight before me. I truly did love my first makeover and thought it made me beautiful. However, what I see looking back at me now is me. My choice and it looks amazing. Amy did a great job of returning my color and placing subtle highlight that really look natural.

She took my long locks and loosely curled the mass so that it falls in soft waves framing my face. I absolutely love it. A giggle erupts from my lips as I look at myself and notice I have a sparkle in my eyes. This is perfect for me.

“I love it,” I chirp and fluff my hair.

Amy squeezes my shoulders from behind looking into the mirror at our reflection. Amy is really pretty with dark hair and dark brown eyes. She reminds me of my sister. Looking in the mirror before us doesn’t leave me feeling less than, the way it used to do when I’d see Ettie and I or me and any pretty girl standing side by side. For once I feel just as pretty.

After making a stop to my optometrist, I have yet another task checked off my list. I find a pair of glasses that don’t eat up my face and hide my features. They say twenty-two-year-old executive, not the old Sophi that insisted on frames she could get lost in. The frame is sleek and compliments my face and they will be ready as early as Monday after work.

Next stop, I want to find my own style. I want to get a dress for tonight and some things for work that are my choice. Not like I don’t love the wardrobe, I have courtesy of Ettie. It’s just she and Kimmie picked everything out. I want to know that I can do this for myself.

I enter a boutique called Toxic Divas. It is a place I heard a few girls from the office talking about on Friday. There’s color everywhere. I think I am going to have an anxiety attack just looking at it all. Maybe I can’t do this without help.

I have stuck with a black and pink color scheme for as long as I can remember. Pink only became a habit because of my mom fusing it into my brain that I needed to wear color and pink would be the best for her Lilla du.

“Hi, my name is Porsha. Can I help you with anything today?” A tall brunette with sparkling blue eyes asks as I walk over to a rack of blouses. She is really thin, definitely model material and I start to question if she will really be able to help me at all.

Remembering why I came here in the first place I lift my chin and take a breath to strengthen my resolve. “Actually, I just want to look around a bit. I want to get a few things for work and a dress to go out clubbing with my friends tonight. I sort of want to try a few things and find my style,” I say with a weak smile.

“Great, I would kill for your shape. I have some things that I think would be great for you. Let’s grab a few things and head to the dressing room,” Porsha smiles enthusiastically.

Her excitement is contagious and I can feel my own excitement rise and a smile surfaces on my face. I like Porsha. She seems to understand that I really need a say in this process. Instead of making choices for me we shop like two old friends. She gently shoves me to one rack, while she plucks things from the shelves and racks nearby holding them up for my approval to take to the dressing room.

An hour later I have picked my own wardrobe. I have blouses and skirts that give me my own style and not a dress by numbers look created by Ettie and Kimmie. I am now more confident that I can pick an outfit for tonight that will make a statement.

“So do you have an idea of what you want to get for tonight,” Porsha asks with a wide grin.

“Not really,” I say nervously biting my lip. I blow out a breath. “But I want it to make a statement, yanno? Something that’s … edgy, but not trashy or anything.” I blush a little and Porsha gives me a wicked smile.

“I noticed your eyes changed colors with that green blouse you tried on. I wonder what would happen…,” she taps a manicured nail against her chin. “I have a great dress, it’s right over here. I think if you try it on in the green and grey it will do the trick and go great with that gorgeous face and skin of yours.”

I follow her to the rack she is looking for and watch as she pulls a dress off holding it up in front of me. I look down at the dress and it is really pretty. Not what I would have went for on my own, but it meets all the requirements I gave. I chew the inside of my jaw for a few minutes.

“Come on girly, this is going to look amazing on you, promise,” Porsha encourages.

I smile my ascent and turn for the dressing room. I wiggle into the dress and my mouth drops open as I look at myself in the mirror. None of the things Ettie and Kim picked out looked this risky. I tug at the fabric around my breasts not sure if I am this bold. The dress is a pale grey on top and fades into a green that reminds me of a certain pair of eyes I am weak to.

The dress does coax out the grey color in my eyes. It halters into a choker at the neck with a keyhole cut from the base of the throat to just below my bust line where it runs into a braided design that decorates the front empire waist. The dress flares into a baby doll skirt. When I turn my back to the mirror my back is completely bare to the lowest part of my waist without showing just too much. The hem stops a little below middle thigh in the back and is a little shorter in the front without heels on, I know I will bare a little more skin with shoes on.

Tugging the hem and shifting my cleavage again I shake my head. Just as I turn to change and look for something else I hear Porsha’s voice. “Is everything okay? Do you need help with the zipper?”

I sigh. “I don’t know.”

“Let me see,” she requests.

I open the door and step out. Porsha bounces in place clapping her hands. Once again her smile makes me smile along with her.

“Now that is how to wear that dress. I wish I had the boobs to pull that one off,” Porsha giggles cupping her small, but still perky looking breasts. “Oh please don’t make that face you look great. I wish I had some type of curves. You look smoking hot in that dress. We can try something else, but that looks really good on you.”

“It’s not too much,” I wince.

“No silly. It hugs you perfectly and you have great legs,” Porsha says sincerely.

I know she is probably getting a commission for this sale, but she has been brutally honest up until this point. She did not shy away from telling me when other items just didn’t work on me. Over the last hour, I have come to value her opinion.

I look in the mirror and try to see myself from the outside. Honestly, I do look hot. My brown legs are shapely and the color of the dress works with my brown complexion better than I would have thought.

“Okay, let’s find shoes for it then. I saw a pair I think may be perfect.”

“Yay,” Porsha squeals. “You have to give me your number before you leave. This has been the most fun I have had here all week.”

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