I felt Kylie step behind me, her head peering over my shoulder for a better look.
“Oh! Is that?” Kylie gasped.
“It is.” I smiled, reaching for the soft peach cocktail dress I had bought a while back. I wasn't sure why I had bought it, I had nowhere to wear it but the moment I saw it I fell in love with it. It was the most expensive piece of fabric I owned. “Do you think it'll be too much?”
“I think—” Kylie started but was quickly cut off by the thudding sound of the apartment door slamming.
“DEFCON 0? Really?! You girls are going to be the death of me!” Quinn said with an exaggerated flourish of his hands as he stepped into my bedroom. His gaze locked onto the dress within my hands, his eyes widening. “Oh my god! It’s perfect!”
The squeal that came out of his mouth was enough to shatter glass. His fingers grazed the soft material. “Well?” He stared at me like I was freaking telepathic.
“Well what?” I rolled my eyes.
“Put the dress on! I need to see it.” He smiled, shooing me out of the room and back into the bathroom, but not before throwing my makeup bag at me. “Put your face on too. We need to get our asses on the road!”
With a groan, I got to work, hoping like hell I wouldn't regret it in the morning.
Thirty minutes, half a can of hairspray, a whole lot of boob adjusting and stomach sucking later, I was officially ready, according to Quinn at least.
“Vogue should hire me.” He waved his hands in the air like it was sacrilege. “I mean, just look at the canvas I had.” He paused, spinning me around on the spot like I was fresh meat. “I turned you from frumpy Smurf to hot-as-hell-drop-down-your-boxers-and-screw-me Smurfette.”
I cringed. What was the fascination with little blue people?
I came to a quick standstill when I felt the urge to vomit from Quinn’s spinning. The moment I got my bearings, I stood with my mouth agape.
“What do you mean 'look at the canvas I had'?!” I shrieked, shoving Quinn in the chest. Of course, he didn't move, only winked at my meek demonstration of strength. I threw my hands on my hips; even pissed at his canvas comment, I was intrigued to see what he had done.
Rolling his eyes, Quinn grabbed me by the shoulders, thrusting me in front of my floor-length mirror. “Now...” He paused, giving me time to take in what I was looking at.
My blonde hair had been styled in a way that would have cost me a good fortune at a hair salon. My hair finally had volume, a stark difference from the usual limp and lifeless mess on my head. My hands fell from my hips as I took in the flawless makeup. My bright blue eyes were framed with a smoky effect, created by Quinn with a dark grey eyeshadow. My cheeks had a shimmer of pink blush while my lips were coated with a thin layer of gloss. My gaze then descended down to the dress, the one I had bought with my very first official paycheck. It was stunning. The peach cocktail dress did everything to give me an hourglass silhouette and nothing to hide what I owned beneath it. The dress was short, so short I worried for anyone who stood behind me if I needed to bend down.
“Tell me I’m not a freaking god,” Quinn finished, whispering in my ear. His gaze found mine in our reflections, a smile playing at his lips. “You look stunning, honey.”
“Oh my shit, Pay!” Kylie squealed from the doorway, eyeing my dress. “You look so freaking hot right now!”
I rolled my eyes. Kylie was the one with the looks. I was what you called average. Average boobs, average waist, average looks. Kylie, on the other hand, was more like a freaking siren. Her chestnut hair fell in flawless curls, delicately resting on her shoulders. Her makeup was minimal but enough to give her an edge. Her skin was a honey shade, offsetting perfectly against her mid-thigh black wrap dress.
“You look hot, babe,” I said back. Of course, she didn't’t see her beauty like I did, like other men did. She shook her head, handing me a pair of heels.
“What are these for?” I cringed at the sheer size of the heels. “No way am I walking in those.”
I thrust the heels back at her only to receive a knowing look that said "if you don’t wear them I might throat punch you." I meekly pulled them back.
“You'll be fine.” Her hands came to my shoulders, pushing me back onto my bed. “Foot.” I decided not to push my luck and gave her my left foot. “These have a platform on the bottom, so in theory they’re two and a half inches shorter than they look.”
“I don’t think it works like that, sweetie.” Quinn chuckled as he added a coat of my gloss to his lips.
“Hey!” I laughed, throwing the nearest thing I could find at his head, which happened to be a decorative cushion from my bed. “Paws off my makeup!”