Midnight Scent (Amour Toxique Book 1) Read Free Page A

bank on my looks forever.” I left without saying anything more—without a goodbye. It hurts that it had to come to this, but some relationships are so damaged they don’t stand a chance at repair.
    The biggest mistake would be changing my mind and modeling again. Dad died last year, but he would have been proud of me for choosing another path. When he was lying in bed, the cancer eating away at him, he asked me for a promise. With tears in his periwinkle eyes—the same shade of blue as mine—he begged me to get out from under my mother’s control and go live my own dreams.
    My mother had once dreamed of growing up to become an international top model, but that dream died when she became a mom. She never said it outright, but I always felt she wanted me to repay her for what she had lost by having me. She wanted me to live her dreams.
    Those last few words with my father prompted my application to design schools all over the country. Oaklow University offered me a full scholarship, and a way out. I didn’t hesitate to accept. The last thing I want is to end up like my mother, grieving for her youth. With her bottle-blonde hair, over-stretched face from too much plastic surgery, fake boobs, and a wardrobe more suited to a twenty-year-old, she’s definitely not my kind of role model. And I’m not her personal cash cow.
    “Sorry, Mom,” I say to the now silent phone. “There’s no way in hell I’m going back to being just a pretty face.”
    ***
    After almost two hours in an interior design studio lecture, I grab a mango smoothie from the cafeteria and take it with me to one of the study halls. My plan is to complete some sketches for a group project.
    I choose an isolated corner at the far end of the hall, separated from the rest of the room by two royal blue plush chairs and a white bean-shaped acrylic table. I want to be as far as possible from the door. It’s not that I’m afraid the other students will disturb me; I just don’t want people staring at me every time they step into the hall.
    Word about me and my modeling career has already spread through campus like wildfire, with students wondering, sometimes out loud, if I’m the girl who ran away from the limelight. Even worse, I don’t have many friends; most guys want to date me, and the girls feel intimidated. I can’t wait for the day everyone sees me as one of them. I ache for a normal life.
    I groan when someone calls my name. Not Milton, please . But of course it is.
    “Hey, Ivy.” He drops, uninvited, into an empty chair at my table. He reeks of hair gel and too much aftershave.
    “I hope you don’t mind a little company.” His perpetual smirk rubs me the wrong way.
    I pick up my smoothie. “Actually, I do. I’m kind of busy right now.”
    Milton Weiss is nineteen, and one of the first people I saw when I arrived on campus. He gawked at me for ages before removing his faded navy cap and shoving it into his pocket. He proceeded to wrestle my luggage from me, insisting on carrying it to my room; he never gave me a chance to say no. Since then, he’s made it clear he’s interested. But I feel nothing for him, not even a flutter.
    To be fair, although he’s a bit too skinny for my liking, and his skate punk style and spiky medium-brown hair aren’t my cup of tea, he doesn’t look half bad. He has the deepest gray eyes I’ve ever seen, and perfect teeth. Unfortunately you can’t force your heart to like someone. And younger guys are not my thing.
    He studies me for a moment while I try not to squirm under his gaze. I continue sipping my smoothie, watching him watching me.
    “You look nice,” he says finally. “I like what you did with your hair.”
    My hand instinctively goes to my head and I run a hand down my side braid. My mother used to say my waist-length hair was my best feature, my money maker. It was one of the reasons she made sure to get me into as many hair product commercials as she could. They were a nightmare. Flinging my