Camilla's POV continues
There's something in his tone, I can't tell if he's joking or serious about it but I have thought of kissing him, I've thought about what his lips might taste like and smacked myself in the head for thinking about it.
The constant bickering between us is giving rise to some sexual tension, tension that nobody but Mirabelle has noticed. Licking my lips I walk away, not trusting what I'm capable of doing if I stay with him. Kingston chuckles to himself as I walk away, relishing in the victory of not only having the last word for once but leaving me utterly speechless.
I get under the shower with my running clothes still on me, clearing myself from the heat of that conversation. Eventually, I got rid of the clothing, taking a quick shower. Looking at the time I'm running behind on, I do things quicker.
Sitting down on my dresser as soon as I leave the bathroom, I begin to do my makeup. The door creaks open, the familiar sweet scent of fruit scented body wash filling the room.
“Why are you doing your makeup by yourself?”
“I don't know, maybe because I have hands?” I giggle, sparing Mirabelle a glance. She looks absolutely stunning in her tight fit dress, her hair falls in a side ponytail, crimson lipstick on her lips and red heels to match her lipstick.
“Wow, I want to be you when I grow up. You're so fucking perfect,” I tell him.
“Thank you but my God, Camilla, you don't take things seriously.” she sighs.
“I take this pack seriously.” I argue, puckering my lips. “And hey, guess who has a kid.” I grin, wiggling my eyebrows at her with excitement.
“Who, Martin and Kristina?”
Ah yes, Kristina and Martin are having a baby. I heard about it earlier today. I'm happy for them. Summer is going to be an amazing mother, that's for sure, but I didn't refer to her when I spoke.
“I hacked into the pack group chat, my mom won't shut up about it.” she snorts, catwalking to my bed, where she sits with her legs crossing at her ankles.
“That's wrong, you shouldn't have.” I tell her, not mad because I too have had the urge to do the same thing but my busy schedule has given me more than enough reason not to. “We should send Summer and Martin something for the baby.” I tell her, veering back to the mirror where I begin to apply my eyeliner in a simple fashion.
“But I thought–”
“About what Belle,” I ask. My attention is fixed on the mirror, where I can see her from where she sits. “Adrian and Martin are two very different people, and Martin has been more than kind to me since the day I met him. My relationship with him can't be affected by your brother's actions.”
“He is not my brother,” Mirabelle counters. Irritation noticeable in her high tone.
“That aside, let's talk about something else.” I begin, grabbing my nude lipstick.
“Something like what?” Mirabelle asks, blowing at her nails.
I rotate in my dresser chair, my gaze resting on Mirabelle. “About how absolutely gorgeous you look or, how I have a kid now.”
“Wait, you didn't tell me you're adopting a baby.” she frowns.
“And I am not,” I tell her. Lining the lipstick with my lips. “Babies are a lot of work,” I tell her, earning myself a raised brow from her, her hand tapping the mattress eagerly. “Karla,” I tell her. “Umm, Kingston's daughter?”
“Yes, she was sad and long story short I said I'd be her mother and I talked to King about it he said it was okay.” I shrug, whirling in my chair till I meet the mirror.
My lipstick looks good, I grab the lip liner and begin to apply it on top of the lipstick.
“That's nice,” Mirabelle grins. “Does that make me aunt Mirabelle?”
“You were already Aunt Mirabelle,” I giggle, careful not to lose my steady hand.
Once I'm done with the liner, I take a quick glance at my makeup, rising to get my dress on the best next to Mirabelle. Running my hand over the fabric of the black dress, I smile at her. “This is cute, and soft.”
“Yep, better than the first dress you wanted, I'm pretty sure it was a black wedding dress.” Mirabelle teases.
I nod, reminiscing about the time I fell hard for a black wedding sash prom dress in the store. “It was, and it remains the most beautiful dress you'll ever see.” I tell her, sliding the thigh sigh open slit dress she ended up convincing me to purchase for measure of elegance and not too much attention to runaway bride vibes.
I slip on the dress, the material snugly fitting my body as if it were tailored simply for me. I love that it doesn't require a bra, my tits get to stand tall and talk shit by pressing my nipples against the fabric, but thankfully, the material is too durable to give off that glimpse.
Running my hand through my straightened hair, I frown, it's never grown this fast, perhaps having a now stagnant but shit-talking wolf has contributed to the rapid growth of my hair. It already falls to my waistline, the length that Ad-
No, I shake my head, I hate him, he has ruined everything I liked, it's all tainted with memories of him but what hurts more is my music.
“So, how do I look?” I ask, my hands caressing the fabric of the dress as I watch myself in the mirror. I look like me but I don't see myself, the one thing I see is a reflection of this woman.
She's gorgeous, absolutely perfect with an emotionless, pit-deep bored expression on my face. I see why people tremble in my presence at times. I slant my head, seeing myself, at three years old, at my Uncle's Pack playing on the floor of Michelle's bedroom while she watches the picture of Edward from twilight.
“Milla, Belle calls out, instantly attaining all my attention.“Are You okay, you zoned out there for a good minute.”
Bobbing my head at her, I grin.“Yep, very fine. I was simply trying to remember something,” I truthfully say.
Walking past her, I reach for the door, my eyes signaling Belle to rise so we can go faster. Mirabelle grabs my phone off the bed along with hers, and walks past me. When I walk out too, closing the door behind me, my eyes meet Kingston.
“Wow.” he murmurs, sparking a nerve of pride in me. I try my best not to stare too hard at the exquisite suit he's wearing and how well it does him.
“You're finally ready.”
“Yes, I was just putting Karla to bed, she wouldn't shut up about you.” he snorts.
I'm about to make a smartass remark when Belle beats me to it, “Hmm, so Karla's parents are matching.” She grins, her tone seemingly filled with laughter.
I roll my eyes, of course, we are matching. She is the one that arranged both of our outfits. Kingston couldn't come shopping so she offered to pick him an outfit and he was going to wear whatever it is she could get him.
“Let's go before something that needs our attention comes up.” I say, leading the way out. Mirabelle follows closely beside me, nudging my arm with her teasingly. I pause, flinging my head over my shoulder to check on Kingston who stands still, not moving a muscle. “Andrew Devontae Kingston,” I called out. “Keep time.” I add.
“Huh?”
“Move it,” I snarl. Clapping my hands until he makes a move. “You really are aiming at being late aren't you?”
He doesn't respond but he does flash me with his white smile, so bright I think I saw my future flash before my eyes just now.
My mouth twitches, curving into a smile when Kingston walks past me. Mirabelle catches the gesture and nods, grinning widely at me, stars dancing in her, "I know something you don't," expression. Ignoring how she will tease me about the fact that Kingston doesn't just irritate me to the max, he can also make me smile with how stupid she is.
I notice the packhouse is silent as we leave, I'm beginning to wonder if people are hiding from me because of the unlikely mood I was in today or perhaps they've genuinely found other quiet activities to engage in. True to Kingston's word there's a limo outside with a range rover that I assume is our escort because I only have one car, and so does Mirabelle, and the pack has a total of fifteen cars available to whoever needs to use them.
Mirabelle and Kingston stay conversing as I slide into the back of the rental car.
The interior is pleasant, neon lights around the black interior are a nice touch.
Mirabelle and King slide, with Kingston sitting across me and Mirabelle next to me.
I try my best to ignore him but he continues to stare at me, a smile plastered on his lips. It's making me itch, I want to slap it off his lips, how is he always so fucking happy with himself?
“What do you want to say?” I groan, my hand reaching out to Mirabekke for my phone to which she places in my hand, no words needed.
“Usted está tan hermosa,” Kingston retorts. (you are so beautiful)
“Si, Estoy aware.” (I'm aware) I tell him, instantly regretting not saying thank you and shutting up.
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