by Alexa Davis
“Whatever you say. I’m used to a different kind of danger, other than starving to death just so I can be skinny, but I’m beginning to think getting trampled by a stampede, or thrown into a fence by a bronco are a lot less scary than I was taught.” I poured the leftover smoothie into her glass, topping it off. “Just don’t you go losing that perfect ass. That would be a tragedy.”
She snorted rudely at me, then held her nose and poured the thick liquid down her throat. She shuddered violently and set the glass in the sink, and I promptly rinsed it and set it in the top of the dishwasher.
“Do you do bathrooms?” she asked.
I laughed and nodded. “As a matter of fact, I am capable of all sorts of domestic bliss-type chores and tasks.” I put one hand on my hip and waved a finger of the other at her. “But all this doesn’t come for free, Honey.”
She giggled and smacked my butt as she walked past. “Taking the bathroom first!” She called out as she broke into a jog down the hallway.
“I thought we could share…”
“Not after yesterday. I’m still a little too sore to be playing games like that again.”
I flushed, embarrassed. I’d finally acted out a fantasy with a woman I really liked. Guess I’d picked the wrong one. I got my clothes ready while she showered, and earned another love tap to my ass as she walked by in a towel.
“That was fast.”
“No point in taking my time when I left the fun out here.”
I rolled my eyes and took my things into the bathroom. The water was hot and the pressure was great, and I stood under for too long. C.J. shortened my shower by turning on the hot water in the kitchen, full blast. I had the whisper of a warning before the heat leached away and ice cold water poured over my neck and shoulders. I heard her howling in laughter even over my unmanly shriek of surprise at the sudden chill.
I turned the water off as fast as I could and opened the shower to see C.J. holding a towel out for me. She had tears running down her face, and she was leaning on the counter, silently shaking with laughter.
“You’re evil.” I snapped the towel out of her hands and stalked out of the bathroom, still dripping. I barely made it out of the room before I lost control of my own face and started grinning. She apologized through her laughter as she followed me through the apartment, collapsing on the bed and shaking as she tried to stop giggling.
“I am sorry, Jackson, it was just a funny idea, and then I did it, and it worked. These days, most places are regulated so that can’t happen, I really figured it wouldn’t work.” I arched an eyebrow at her. “I promise.” She leaned up and kissed me on the cheek while I was halfway in my shirt, so she could run her hands over my bare chest. Even though they were warm, I shuddered from her feather-light touch.
“Hardware store?” I asked when I got my shirt down over my stomach.
“I’ve already ceased to be a distraction, huh?” she pouted and I chuckled.
“Oh, no. If I hadn’t just had a cold shower, I’d be all over you.”
She started to giggle again and walked off toward her converted bedroom. “Give me five minutes to check in with my followers and get some shoes on,” she called over her shoulder. I put the bed away while I waited, and grabbed a beer from the fridge. I set my laptop up on the kitchen counter and checked my email, and shot off a message with the Dean of Admissions at Stanford regarding our meeting Monday morning. I hadn’t seen much of California yet, but what I had seen was worth spending more time with.
By the time I’d taken care of my business, C.J. was done with hers, and we walked to the hardware store to pick up rubber tubing, heavy gauge wire, and the same hinge system I’d used on a glider repair back home.
“So, you’re sure this will still work?” C.J. looked through her bag of goodies as I steered her down the sidewalk and kept her out of traffic.
“It worked on my glider, in a pinch. But, in this case, I think it’s a better idea, since it doesn’t have to hold your weight, but you hold its weight.”
“Well, you are full of surprises. How many good looking, cowboy, computer geek, hang-gliding engineers are there in the world, do you think?” I laughed and shrugged, then steered us into a sandwich shop that looked like it was already getting busy, despite the early hour.
We ordered lunch and took it to go so we could get to work on the wings and restructure them in time for the convention in the morning. C.J. was skilled with her costumes, and she had her largest prize yet riding on her ability to deliver more than she ever had before. Working with her on this, and getting to build something for once, were both exciting to me. But, after watching video of how she had constructed a working grappling gun for her last competition, I knew the stakes were higher than I could even imagine.
Next year, she’d have the assistance of major designers to help with her costumes, but if she stopped being relevant before that could happen, it would be that much harder for her to come back. Doing this competition so close to the last was a huge risk for the sake of her dream career. I wasn’t about to blow it for her.
She put the food and sodas away in the fridge and I went straight to work, carefully undoing the layer of fabric stretched over the frame that held the feathers. I was too scared to lift the feathers off the frame by myself, so I left them in place and began remeasuring the lengths of steel that I’d already measured twice since the inspiration first struck.
C.J. brought the high back barstools in from the kitchen and used them to drape the wing “covers” over, so that the rest of the frame could stay on her mannequin for me to work with. While I replaced struts one at a time with lighter, slightly more flexible wire, C.J. curled up in her leatherworking corner and began working on the extra brace to fit across her ribcage and help distribute the weight that was left.
It was an afterthought, but when I saw her curled up on her wide bench, concentrating over her tooling and leather, I turned my laptop web camera on her. I knew the guys who followed her like only geeky fanboys could would stick around through her absence better if they got a YouTube video or two in the interim. I let the video record for a good ten minutes, then shut it down to be edited and uploaded later
We worked separately, without talking for a couple of hours, until I had replaced every strut on one wing, and was ready to start the second. My stomach growled loudly enough that C.J. heard it on the other side of the room and laughed at me. She stood and stretched, and rumpled my hair before heading out to the kitchen to get my lunch and make hers. I folded the wings and released the catch three or four times, just to make sure I hadn’t made any miscalculations, and popped the first couple of struts off the second wing. It went much faster, once I figured out exactly how to best disconnect and reconnect the pieces, and even with a quick break to bolt down a delicious sandwich and kettle chips, it took half the time to finish the second that it had the first.
Together, we pinned her additional brace into position and she secured it with anchor stitches, and we recovered the wings with the hand-sewn feather overlay. I was nervous for her to try it on, and judging by her hesitancy, I wasn’t the only one.
“Look, it’s a really big deal that you trusted me to mess with this costume,” I began, my voice trailing off as she glanced up at me.
“I can’t explain why I did. I didn’t panic at all until right this moment. I may look all calm and clear-headed, but I am so afraid to put those on and realize that they no longer open.” She shook her head and scrubbed at her face with her palms. “Well, no use in stalling, right?” She removed her top and the little lace bra underneath, and I helped her get her arms through the straps in the bodysuit. I heard a click as she locked the brace across her chest and buckled it up over both the original waist-brace and the new brace across her ribs. She had used the leather from her new hobby to create a bra of sorts to wear under her costume, and stepped out into the middle of the room.
She did a little turn and planted her feet as she had before. She popped her hip
and placed her hand on it, flipping the little switch with her thumb as she did so. I held my breath for the briefest moment while everything was still, and just as her eyebrows shot up, the wings opened with a satisfying “whoosh.” C.J. tilted her head to one side, and while she said nothing, I could see her scolding me in her head from the look on her face as she stared me down.
“I know, I know, the pause was a little longer than anticipated. But, it you throw a head toss in there, it will be seamless.”
“Or, you could fix the timing.”
“Or I could fix the timing. Don’t move, I can get to the springs just fine if you leave the wings open.” I knelt behind her and adjusted the tightness of the timing springs, and closed the wings for her to try them again. The second time, they sprang open without a hitch, and she used the tiny motor in the belt of the costume to close them in a fairly smooth motion. I made a mental note to check the motor and make sure it had enough juice for the convention, and to pack extra batteries just in case.
C.J. agreed that not only were they lighter, but the new brace/bra top made her breasts look fabulous. I couldn’t disagree. She looked delicious, from the mahogany wig to her glowing toes. She wasn’t just dressed like a character, she embodied it.
“It feels amazing,” she confessed as we hung all the bits and pieces of her costume up wither on the mannequin or right next to her. “I’m scared I’m going to forget something and lose the competition over some stupid misplaced item, or because one of my boots stops lighting up or something.
I showed her the satchel I had already started, with batteries, wig taming tools, extra insole foot cushions for the hours she was about to spend on her feet, a bottle of Aleve, and a bottle of water.
“They say it’s good to be prepared, so I tried to think of anything you might need while we’re at the convention center. I figured you could add, like, makeup and hair stuff on your own, I wouldn’t even know where to begin with all that.”
Immediately, C.J. started rifling through her cabinets looking for appropriate hair and makeup products to add to the bag. In the end, my “emergency kit” was heavier than the damn wings had been, with theater makeup, more water, an extra red wig in case she changed her mind, feminine hygiene products, because they were good for nosebleeds and smear-free sweat removal (who knew?), and protein bars. The last made me the happiest, glad to see she was open to solid food of some kind, even if it was low-calorie.
“Well, are you ready for a celebratory dinner of kale shake and flavored water?” I mocked as I helped her wrap the costume and put it inside the extra-large garment bag. She gave me a grin, and surveyed the room one more time for any pieces we might have missed the dozen times we already went over the list.
“We are good,” she sighed. “This is so simple with help. I might have to chain you to my bed and make you stay forever.” I knew she was teasing, but the more time I spent with her, the easier it was to see myself here, and not on the ranch. I busied myself with getting everything in the duffel bag in an organized way, and set it on the floor below the garment bag.
It seemed so innocuous, hanging there, as though it might have shirts and suits in it, the grey, drab fabric did nothing to announce the craftsmanship of what it held. Looking at it, I got another idea and started brainstorming. If Carina was going to make a brand out of being C.J. Rivers, it was time for her to have the tools and art that a professional deserved.
17. Carina
The wings felt so much better with the changes we’d made, I almost wanted to wear them into Gamercon. But I had obligations to fulfill that required me wear what one or more of the game developers hosting the party wanted from me, so even though I felt it was ready to be seen, I had to wait to share my biggest project with the world. I glanced at Jackson, humming to himself as he put together another shake for me. Admittedly, I let him do it because his tasted better, but I worried it was because he was adding things I wasn’t supposed to have, like anything that tasted good.
He’d been in town for just a day and had settled in so easily it was like we’d always lived together. It felt strange thinking about before he’d arrived, and what I was going to do once he left again. I had interrupted him emailing Stanford, and it was a sharp reminder that I wasn’t the only reason he was in California. I wanted him to stay. I’d wanted him to stay from the moment he asked to help make my costume easier to wear. He didn’t change the look, he didn’t ask me to cover up more or wear less, he just asked if he could make what I had already done better for me.
I texted Shelby and sent my schedule so we could coordinate makeup and maybe a few minutes together between signings and panels, which we both had been asked to do in our relative fields of expertise, if that was a word I could even use for my gaming. I laughed to myself.
Jackson was a technology and gaming expert. He was crazy good at the games we played, and had earned one degree already in computers, before the one he was looking to finish at Stanford. It occurred to me that I could make him a few good connections at the convention. I mentioned him to Shelby, who was better connected with the guys than I was, since I hadn’t dated nearly as many of them, and told her what little I knew of his history and what he’d done for me before we’d even met. She replied that it was the sweetest creepy stalker thing she’d ever heard. I wasn’t used to being ready this far ahead of a convention, and I wondered what to do with Jackson. I stuck my head out into the living room, where he and Stiles the cat were hanging out on the sofa and channel surfing.
“Did you bring any ‘going out’ clothes with you?”
He glanced down at his shirt and back up at me. “Is there something wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“No, but did you bring anything you could wear to a club? We’re a little ahead of schedule, and I thought you might like to see the California nightlife. I don’t know if I’ll be much up to it after the convention, so…”
“I did not bring clubbing clothes. So, how about you show me the mall life in California, and we can go to the club tonight.”
“Perfect. Let’s head out and get you something. I might have to get something for myself too. I get pretty stingy with my money sometimes, and I think today is a good day for splurging.” I grabbed my keys and kissed Stiles goodbye, picking him up and holding him even longer when he growled at me, low in his throat. “Bye, baby kitty.” I looked up at the sound of a sigh.
“He hates that.”
“Right now, maybe. But he’ll be all lovey again when it’s dinner time. It’s the only payback I get for feeding him and cleaning his litter box. He owes me.”
I drove to the The Grove, my nearest mall, navigating LA traffic with my usual combination of aggressiveness and wild abandon that had poor Jackson clinging to the door handle and glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.
“You skerred, boy?” I taunted him as I lurched into a parking stall that wasn’t too far a walk from the front door of the mall. He glared balefully at me and leaned against the car door for a moment before getting out.
“Do you always drive like that?”
“You drove in from the airport, weren’t there other people on the road with you?”
“Yes, and I spent half the drive yelling at them and flipping them off, you crazy woman.”
I giggled and let him hold the glass door open for me while I stepped into the air-conditioned interior of the Nordstrom store and made a beeline for the men’s section.
“Would you prefer me to wait and watch you try things on, or go shopping for myself and meet up with you in a little while?”
He held up a finger and grabbed a nice tee shirt and a pair of black designer jeans. “I’ll come with you. This should fit fine.”
I scoffed. “Typical male. All right, I’ll try not to take too long, but you, ah, you set the bar a little high for speed shopping.”
He shrugged. “Let me pick yours out too, and we can go sit at the Nordstrom’s coffee bar and get fancy coffees and talk loud so people mak
e fun of my accent.”
I laughed louder than I intended and bumped him with my shoulder. “Okay, you can pick, but I will be trying it on, and I claim first right of veto.”
“Uh, no, I don’t think so. You get to dress up all the time. I never get to dress you, but I have a few ideas.”
I rolled my eyes. “No naked clubs in town, in case you were wondering.”
“That’s fine by me. I won’t even dress you like you’re Amish, even though I thought about it for a minute. Trust me. I got to see all your clothes, remember? I think I know what you like.” He pointed at a chair by the dressing room. “Now go wait.”
I sat down, watching pretty teens who were skipping school go back and forth between the racks and the dressing rooms, and I realized how old I felt compared to them. I got my first clue that Jackson was coming back when I saw a girl who couldn’t be more than seventeen, biting her lip and staring at him from under her false eyelashes. He was completely oblivious to it, too excited to see my reaction to his choices to even see the girl watching him, which only made me smile bigger.
“Okay, I got something black, something red, and something blue, because I thought it would go with your eyes.” He handed me the hangers. “Try the blue first, it’s my favorite.” I winked and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.
“I could get used to this.”
He laughed and blushed a little. “Well, I’ve never had a model of my own to dress. I had a hard time not grabbing more.”
He grabbed my ass as I walked away, and I glanced in the mirror to see the irritation on the blonde’s face as he took over the chair I’d been sitting in and pulled out his phone. I tried on the blue dress, just as he’d asked. It was a little big, but considering it was a size small, I couldn’t be mad at him.
“Jackson? Can you come here, honey?” I called out as I slid out of the slinky, stretchy dress. He knocked on the door and I opened it a crack, slipping the dress out to him. “If this comes in an extra small, I’d really appreciate it. This one is a little baggy in the front, and I don’t’ think we need to share my nipples with the world.” He paused as if he was thinking about it, and I shut the door in his face.