One
Ilona
The woman in the mirror is a complete stranger.
She’s beautiful, brave and utterly goddess-like.
And nothing like me, I’m happy to say.
If there’s anyone I don’t want to be tonight, it is the boring, obedient good girl me.
I turn slowly, watching the way Luna's artistic brushwork transforms me into something wild and untamed. Hibiscus flowers bloom across my breasts in shades of sultry coral and forbidden gold, their delicate petals curling over curves I've spent my whole life hiding beneath modest necklines and father-approved fabrics.
See. I told you I was boring as hell.
Luscious green vines twist down my torso, leaves unfurling across my ample hips. Everywhere Luna's brush touches, I feel reborn. The paint is cool against my skin, tightening slightly as it dries, a second skin that feels more like me than anything I've ever worn.
I peer down my half painted body at my closest friend. “Where did you learn to paint like this? I never thought of myself as a human canvas.”
Luna swipes a black curl from her face and peers over my shoulder, catching my gaze in the reflection. A playful smirk skims over the curve of her mouth. “Not so long ago, I was on the receiving end of the paint. I kind of took a liking to it and every once in a while I’ll tease my men with a replay of our first night together at the Gilded Key Society.”
My mouth goes slack with surprise. I’m familiar with the adult sex club, but I’ve never dared step inside. “Do I dare ask how the body paint landed you three men that night?”
Her distinctive moon-gray eyes sparkle with mischief.
“Missy,” I urge. “Since I’m preparing for my own night out on the town in very similar circumstances, I feel like I need those details.”
“Hm-mm, Nope. I don’t kiss and tell secrets, but I do know you're totally going to get laid tonight." Luna steps back, tilting her head to admire her work. A smudge of gold paint streaks her cheek and her black curls have escaped their bun, wild and untamed around her heart-shaped face. Her gray eyes, those moonlight eyes that miss nothing, spark with satisfaction as she takes in her creation. "I mean, look at you. You're a goddamn masterpiece."
"Finally." The word comes out more desperate than I intend. I meet her eyes in the mirror again and let out a breath that shakes. "You have no idea how hard it is to lose your V-card when three bodyguards act like your virginity is the only thing keeping them alive."
Luna snorts, dipping her brush into a pot of emerald green. The scent of the paint mingles with my jasmine perfume, creating something new and strange and fitting for the woman I'm trying to become. "Would your father really end them if they let you get close to a guy?"
The laugh that escapes me is bitter and hollow. "That’s right. You don’t know. Let me tell you about Abel."
Her brush pauses against my hip. "Abel?"
I nod. "Two years ago." I watch my reflection as I speak, as if the distance of the mirror makes the memory easier to hold. My face looks calm but my eyes betray me, darkening with the shadows I usually keep buried. "Sweet guy. Art student. Completely inappropriate by Marchetti standards, which made him dreamily perfect, Luna. I’m not even kidding. We'd been sneaking around for three months when he came over while the guards were supposed to be distracted."
Luna's hand stills completely. The playfulness drains from her expression, replaced by something fierce and protective. She knows me well enough to hear what's coming.
"Things got heated. Clothes came off. We were on my bed, and I was finally going to do something that was mine, something I chose, ya know." My throat tightens but I push through anyway. I’ve had enough therapy that I should be able to recount the story without a tremble in my voice, but it’s there all the same. Or at least I can hear it.
"These men burst through my bedroom door like they'd been waiting for the moment I finally had a guy alone in my apartment and they had a game plan just waiting to put into action.”
I pause and inhale deeply, forcing myself to calm down.
“Anyway, two of them grabbed Abel, still on top of me, naked. The third held me down so I couldn't help him."
"Ilona..." Luna's voice is soft, wounded on my behalf.
“I knew what was gonna happen the second they slid my balcony door open and there was nothing I could do. They threw him off the balcony." The words taste like ash in the back of my throat. "He landed in the neighbor's pool, hitting the side of his head. The man barely survived and all he did was want to make love to me.”
“Oh, sweetie, why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
I lift a palm-frond painted shoulder and force the tear threatening to ruin the delicate leaves on my cheeks into submission.
“I haven’t told a soul. I guess I couldn’t find the words for a long time.”