They both frowned at me, the long pause making me fear that the situation might become untenable. Kian would likely not be amused if I lost half the morning going to the airport and eating breakfast. Once they left, I could probably call him and ask him to meet me there, but what if they wanted to watch me walk through security? I started to sweat.
“Seriously, it’s fine,” I murmured. “I need to be independent, right?”
Eventually Dad sighed. “If you’re sure. This feels like it’s happening too soon.”
“Be careful.” That came from Mom, along with a recitation of things to look out for. “And text us when you get there safely. Remember, we’ll be traveling this summer, but we’ll have our cell phones if you need anything.”
“Will do … and I won’t forget. Have a productive summer.”
They both gave me stiff, awkward hugs that were more like thumps on the back, then Dad pressed some cash into my hands and they let me go. As I stepped onto the street, my phone buzzed. After skimming the text message, I walked two blocks as requested, and Kian met me on the corner.
“You didn’t have any trouble?” he asked.
“Not much. I know how to manage my parents.”
Barely.
“Good. This way.” He stepped off the main walk into an alley, just a narrow gap between two brick buildings. At the end, there was a green Dumpster and some cardboard boxes. If it wasn’t a bright, sunny morning, I’d be seriously freaked out and reconsidering my decision. A little voice whispered that none of this was real anyway, so I might as well enjoy the adventure, one of those super vivid dreams that amazed you when you finally awakened.
“Let’s get out of sight.” The heat of his fingers tangling with mine stole my voice.
I clung, hoping Kian took it for fear or anticipation. I’d die if he knew I just liked holding his hand.
He didn’t speak, but once we rounded the Dumpster, he ported us. I expected to land on the campus, but the world came back into focus inside a small, stylish cabin. If Architectural Digest ever sponsored a wilderness retreat, I suspect it would look like this. From the view out of the window, it was built on top of a mountain with a river rushing nearby, different from the precipice he’d taken me to first.
“Where are we?” I yanked my hand free and stumbled back a step.
“Relax. I need a quiet place to work on you. As soon as you’re satisfied, we’ll continue to the university.”
“Right.” He couldn’t change my face in a diner, even if it was company-owned. Whatever that meant. “But seriously, where are we?”
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, sheepish. “My place in Colorado. Perk of the job. I can live wherever I want, even if I’m working in Boston.”
“Don’t you have an office?” I joked.
“I do, but…” He trailed off, regarding me intently.
Secretly I was glad he’d brought me home with him. A cubicle with fluorescent lights would quell my delusions that this could be more than business for him. So this must be standard procedure, and I shouldn’t get my hopes up. I would have loved to poke into the nooks and crannies of the immaculate rooms in hope of uncovering his secrets, but that would be rude, and he had a job to do.
He canted his head toward the couch, pulling on a pair of odd, sleek gloves with textured pads on each fingertip. “Make yourself comfortable. This might take a while.”
Yeah, he had a lot to fix. I hunched my shoulders in misery as I trudged over to the sofa. He sat down right next to me, his expression softening. God, yuck, I didn’t want him feeling sorry for me, even if he did know how I felt.
“Hey, it’s not your fault. And I meant it when I said you have a nice smile. More important, you’re a good person. I’m just going to make the outside line up with what you have going on up here.” He touched my neck, and soothing heat flooded through me.
Immediately, I felt calmer—and suspicious of that shift. “What did you do?”
“I used an electrical impulse to stimulate your hypothalamus, but I can’t make the kind of changes you’re asking for without a little pain. It’ll go smoother if you’re not already vibrating with tension.”
“How much pain are we talking about?” I pushed out a slow breath, bracing. “And why can’t you make it painless? Or knock me out?”
“Normally, a sedative would be administered, but I’m not an anesthesiologist. This procedure is low risk, but administering medication—well, I’m not doing that. You could be allergic, or it might not work on you the way it’s supposed to.”
When he put it that way, I saw his point. This was close enough to plastic surgery without a license for me to get scared. I breathed deep, wondering if I should back up. But it was too late; the hash mark had already formed atop my infinity symbol. In this deal, there were no do-overs or takebacks.
“I can handle it.”
“Let’s focus on what you want. How would you like to look?”
“You can make me resemble someone else?”
“Sure. But it’s best if I optimize you. People tend to assume minor cosmetic procedures over the summer, weight loss, gym membership. They’ll fill in the blanks as long as you don’t have a whole new face.”
“Then I’d love to be the best possible version of me.”
“Okay, let’s start with your eyes. I can change the color or brighten them, as well as correct your vision.”
“And people will think I got contacts or Lasik surgery.”
“Pretty much.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the color, is there?” It wasn’t like I spent any time staring at my own irises.
“No, they’re pretty, like the sun through topaz. You just can’t see them too well with your glasses on.”
Heat washed my cheeks. “You don’t have to say stuff like that.”
“You think you’re a troll, because the people at school made you feel that way, but you have good raw material. You’ll be a knockout when we’re finished—and without as much structural redesign as you think.”
“Then just do it.”
He arched a brow. “You don’t want to direct me?”
My shoulders squared, and I sucked in a sharp breath, trying to steady my nerves. Though I half suspected I was dreaming, it was terrifying to consider how much power I was giving him. “You’re the expert. Just go for the best version of me. I trust you.”