Making Up by Lucy Parker

Author:Lucy Parker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-06T15:24:58+00:00

Chapter Eight

When Trix woke up in Leo’s bed on Saturday morning, she felt oddly...sticky.

And not in a “morning after the fun” sort of way. In a “what the hell is on my face?” sort of way.

She knew Leo was up even before the sleep fog cleared. He was an extreme cuddler, and there was currently a nice wide expanse of space around her legs. Summer nights were the only time that she wasn’t a physically affectionate person, for the sole reason that sleeping pressed up against a large naked man tended to generate enough body heat to power a small car. However, every time she’d tried to edge away, he’d followed her in his sleep, until she’d ended up clinging to the edge of the mattress while he flung all limbs about her and snored into her neck.

Something furry touched her face.

Their flat might not be Versailles, but it wasn’t a complete hole. There was very little reason for her brain to jump to the conclusion of sewer rat.

Her eyes popped open, her hand jerked up to rip Rizzo the Rat away, and Leo’s paintbrush went flying across the room.

Her scream ended in a dry cough.

Leo, seated on the edge of the mattress, watched his brush roll along the wooden floorboards, leaving a snail trail of black drips, then looked back at her.

She pushed up to sit, the sheet falling away, and his interested gaze dropped to consider her bare breasts. He was fully dressed and showered, and he’d set up a little table of makeup by the bed.

Gingerly, Trix touched the patch of her cheek that was tight and tacky, and turned her forearm from side to side. Interesting. She appeared to be decomposing into a delicate pile of bones. He was painting a section of her arm in black and grey shadows that receded around the three-dimensional illusion of a skeleton.

She cleared her throat. “This gives whole new meaning to the phrase ‘boning.’”

“I was wondering if you were actually going to wake up.” After retrieving his brush, Leo sat down and picked up a squeezy tube of goop, which he started smearing on her face. Her eyes slid left to peek at the clock. Eight in the morning. Slightly unexpected hazard of dating—sleeping—with a makeup artist. “I got much further in than I expected. You barely stirred. Which was admittedly useful from my perspective, but I’m not sure that the way you sleep is medically normal. I had to hold a hand mirror under your nose a couple of times to check you were breathing. It was like something out of a vampire film.”

Obligingly, Trix turned her cheek so he could blend. After he’d been working quietly for some minutes, she spoke. “I don’t mean to sound overly inquisitive, but what the hell are you doing?”

He studied her with a critical eye. “Now that you’re vertical, I can see where I used too much shadow.”

“You painted me while I was asleep.”

“And all you did was roll over a couple of times.

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