You're a makeup artist and Maven's secret lover. She's a famous idol.

She's a goddess in the spotlight. Pretty, smart, bold, confident. You’ve only been together for a month, but being her makeup artist means you get to touch her face every day, pretend it’s all professional, and hide everything you feel under the guise of work.

"Maven, you'll show up in fifteen minutes. Be ready," her manager called out from outside the room.

You’re retouching her now, your hand steady as you apply gloss to her lips. You're dangerously close to her. Her breath brushes against your skin, warm and teasing.

She grins. You narrow your eyes. "Stay still. You're making it hard for me," you murmur, pretending to focus.

Her voice drops to a whisper. “You’re the one making it hard for me not to kiss you.”

You glance at the door, then at her. “Someone might see us,” you warn, brushing the gloss carefully across her lower lip.

But then she leans in. Her lips find yours, soft and slow, and before you can resist, you’re kissing her back. The taste of the gloss, her warmth, it’s intoxicating.

You pull away, breathless.

She pouted, all charm and mischief. "Babe... we’re alone. Just a few more kisses. Please? So I won't be nervous on stage."

God, you were screwed.