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I won’t.
11 DAMON
“Thanks for watching, guys! Don’t forget to hit that subscribe button to see videos every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday! Until next time!” Clara blows a kiss to the camera, waves, and then the next video starts to load.
I’ve spent the last four hours in a loop of watching as many of Clara’s videos as possible. I’m addicted. Do I need to know how to contour properly? How to create that perfect smoky eye, or what concealer is the best for undereye circles? No. But I know all of that now—and more.
The woman is amazing. The videos themselves are simple, but she lights up on camera. She’s confident, funny, and her skills are impressive. I’ve never given much thought to how makeup is applied, but the way Clara does it? I could watch for hours…obviously.
I continue scrolling through the videos I haven’t watched yet, and one piques my interest. It’s from a few weeks ago and titled Perfect First Date Makeup. I can’t help but press play, and her beautiful face fills the screen once more. I don’t really pay attention to how she applies the makeup, all I want to see is what she might look like when we go out tonight. As she talks through the application of her look, I scroll down and read some of the comments. A smile breaks out at all the women commenting that Clara has helped them find their confidence and that her personal stories help them when they’re having a bad day. A sense of overwhelming pride sweeps through my chest as I continue reading the comments.
There’s a knock at my office door, and my eyes shoot up to see Liam pop his head in. “Are you still watching those videos?” he grumbles as he lets himself in and sits in the leather chair opposite my desk. I say nothing, just nod as I mute Clara’s voice. I ignore Liam’s stare and focus my attention on one comment that catches my eye.
That lipstick makes your lips so fucking sexy. One day, they will wrap around my dick, and it will be so far down your throat, you’ll beg me to breathe. I can’t wait. Xoxo B.
What the actual fuck? Do people really think this shit is okay?
“What are you looking at?” Liam mutters, coming over to my side of the desk as he reads over my shoulder.
“What the fuck? Is that actually real?” I scroll down even farther and find another one.
I bet that voice will sound amazing screaming my name while I fuck you senseless.
Seriously, I’m going to kill every person who writes something about fucking my girl.
My girl?
Since when did that happen?
“I know, there seems to be more good comments than bad ones, but how does she read all these? It would mess with my fucking mind every time I made a video.”
Liam agrees and leans back against my desk, crossing his arms.
“What are you gonna do about it?” I look at him like he’s insane. As much as I want to use my connections and find every fucker that says anything even remotely sexual toward Clara, I can’t. She would kill me. And as much as I want to deny it, she’s crawled her way into my life, and I won’t fuck that up.
“Nothing. I’m going to do nothing because she’s a grown-ass woman.” I grit out the words as if they physically hurt to say. God, what I wouldn’t do to get my private investigator buddy to look into this, but I rein myself in.
“If it were me—”
“I know. You would be all up in it. But I’m not you. I really like this girl, and I don’t want to scare her off.” Liam gives me a knowing look, and I roll my eyes, leaning back in my chair.
“Fine. I’ll talk to her about it tonight.”
After Liam shuts my door on his way out, I glance at the comments one more time, and the anger starts to boil beneath my skin. Why doesn’t she have the comments disabled? It would solve all these problems.
Before I think better of it, I take out my phone and text her.
Why don’t you have the comments on your videos disabled?
It takes less than a minute before my phone rings, and Clara’s picture stares back at me.
“What are you talking about?” she snaps. Her accusatory tone grates on my nerves.
“I want to know why you don’t have the feature disabled when you’re getting comments about someone who isn’t me fucking you.”
“You watched one of my videos?” she asks quietly, and the rational part of my brain knows that I need to tread carefully here. But that’s not what happens.
“I watched many, and on every single one, there is a comment about how sexy you look, how fuckable you are.” I tense, the anger ready to burst through me, aimed directly at Clara.
