Sweet as Sin by J.T. Geissinger

Author:J.T. Geissinger [Geissinger, J.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781477830864
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Published: 2015-07-13T04:00:00+00:00

I worked. I ate. I slept. I made it through the next three days without checking my phone again, or dying, though it really felt like I would.

Then on the final day of the shoot, life decided it would be super fun to drop a nuclear bomb on my head.

I was applying contouring powder to the knife-edged angle of a model’s cheekbone in one of the hotel suites that had been set up for makeup and wardrobe. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen, snapping gum and fiddling constantly with the pink bedazzled phone in her lap, tweeting and Facebooking and all the rest. She clicked a link on the screen, and a song began to play. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. I tapped it with the handle of my brush.

“Don’t scrunch your nose. You’ll get bunny lines and will have to get Botox when you’re twenty.”

Obviously, I was feeling a little stabby.

“I can’t believe anybody likes One Direction, they’re such a bunch of little boys?”

The model, a wafer-thin El Salvadorian girl ironically nicknamed Gordita—Spanish for “chubby”—had the habit of ending sentences at a higher pitch than the beginning, so it always sounded like she was asking a question. I made a noncommittal noise and started working on her other cheekbone. They were so sharp they could draw blood if I accidentally touched them with my finger. I wondered what the last meal she’d had was. Probably water and an olive, followed by a piece of sugarless gum for dessert.

When I turned to get the eyelash glue from the vanity beside us, she squealed.

I whirled around, expecting to see a spider on her arm, or at the very least a cheeseburger that had made a sudden appearance on one of the trays of Evian an assistant was circulating through the room, but she was staring at her phone, enraptured by whatever was on the screen.

“Omigod! It’s Bad Habit’s new video! It was just released!”

My stomach did this funny thing where it tried to crawl up my esophagus and escape. Forgetting the lash glue, I plastered myself to Gordita’s side, watching over her shoulder.

And there they were, in all their rock ’n’ roll glory. Bad Habit.

It struck me for the first time how apropos that name really was. Greedy and unable to resist temptation exactly as if I were an addict, I stared with my mouth open as the video I’d made with Nico came to life.

Watching it was so surreal. Even on a four-inch screen, I could see the combustible attraction between us. The tension in our bodies, the way we looked at one another, even the way we didn’t look at each other all screamed “want.”

I was proud about how I looked. Like a vampy, old-fashioned pinup girl back in the days when having a good figure meant having tits and ass, not the body of a twelve-year-old boy like my friend Gordita beside me.

But if the camera had been kind to me, it absolutely worshipped Nico. He was

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