Reverb (Story of CI #2) by Rachel Moschell

Author:Rachel Moschell [Moschell, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-07-31T22:00:00+00:00

24

Skinny Jeans and a Little Exorcism

AS ALEJO SLID FROM THE CAR AT THE DOOR to the Hand Up fundraiser, he solemnly made a mental note to never, ever, let himself be talked into shopping with Rostam. Ever again.

Rostam had come to pick them up at the Happy Paris, and had not been pleased at all with Alejo’s fashion options for this apparently quite trendy event.

So Alejo had packed light for this trip. That was quite normal for him; what did a guy need with more than a few changes of clothes and some surplus underwear? As long as the clothes were clean, from the last year or two and not too wrinkled, what was the big deal? Alejo’s new buddy Rostam, however, had narrowed those cheery brown eyes and shook his head when checking out Alejo’s wardrobe choices.

“I hate to tell you this, Paulo, but you could really use some help in the clothes department.”

Alejo had felt his lips press into a thin smile, and he sank down onto the unmade bed, regarding Rostam. “So the fundraiser’s a tuxedo only event?”

Rostam raised his eyes from grimly regarding Alejo’s neatly-folded tshirts and khaki cargo pants. He truly appeared pained. “No way. But c’mon, man, at least let’s find you something a little more…festive. I know just the place.”

And so the two of them had set off, Alejo cracking his shoulders and rolling his eyes, to some slick men’s boutique smelling much too heavily of cologne Alejo hoped to heaven Rostam wasn’t about to buy. And now here Alejo was, standing on the white sidewalk and feeling that his jeans were much, much too tight. As if the gauzy white and blue striped shirt weren’t enough, Rostam had talked Alejo into some dark jeans that felt like handcuffs around the ankles and were so snug that he was honestly afraid to sit down.

“Oh. My. Gosh.” Alejo was annoyed to feel his cheeks turn crimson as he realized Sandal was standing on the sidewalk next to Wara, grinning. She smirked at him in that mean, older sisterly way that occasionally made Alejo want to kill her. “I never thought I’d say this, Alejo, but you look good. Really good. Thanks to Rostam’s fashion advice, I assume.”

Alejo just stood there on the sidewalk, humiliated, mentally cursing Rostam for pealing off in the tiny red car to park and leaving Alejo here to face Sandal’s mockery alone. He crossed his arms and let his eyes dart from Sandal to Wara, whose honey-colored eyes sparkled above a necklace of jade stones and the designer black manteau he’d bought her. “You can blame Rostam for making me his Barbie for the afternoon.” Alejo hoped his voice didn’t come off as bitter as he felt.

“He actually did a good job,” Wara shocked him by saying. She pursed her lips at him in thought. “You don’t look bad.”

Alejo allowed himself to smile, crookedly. “You don’t look bad” probably didn’t mean, “You, Alejo Martir, are a hunk”, but it did give him hope that he didn’t look as ridiculous as he felt.

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