Model Behavior

by Carter, M. E.

  He nods because he does. Calypso is living proof of how a lot of us behave in our early twenties when we’re on our own and have no responsibility except deciding whether or not to skip our eight o’clock class.

  “I just started noticing that after the luster of the physical part sort of dimmed, most times there wasn’t any relationship left. I don’t want an accidental relationship that evolved from a healthy sex life. I want a healthy sex life that evolves from a solid relationship.”

  Matthew nods slowly and I can tell he’s absorbing my words. “So you want a love story worthy of a romance novel.”

  I smile at his chiding. “I’m more realistic than that. But yeah. I want my next relationship to evolve from common interests and genuine care for each other. I feel like if sex is secondary to other stuff, it’s a stronger bond. And a stronger bond makes for better sex anyway,” I add on in a mumble to myself.

  Matthew cocks his head and moves closer. “Excuse me? Did you just say you need a strong bond for good sex?”

  I roll my eyes at him. “Not exactly. But come on. You have to admit sex is way better when there is an emotional connection, not just a physical one.”

  He shrugs, not quite agreeing with me but not disagreeing with me either. “I never really thought about it.”

  “Of course not. You’re a guy. Sex is mind-blowing no matter what for you.”

  “Well, it’s blowing something. That’s for sure.”

  I burst out laughing. “Ohmygod, you did not just say that.”

  He smiles like telling me something funny is a victory on his part. “I did. But I also understand. You want a good, solid foundation before going there. I get it.”

  I smile shyly, trying to enjoy this moment because honestly, it could be the last. More than once a guy has expressed interest in me, only to suddenly lose that interest just as quickly when he finds out what my boundaries are. “I’m not looking for a hookup, Matthew. I want more than that. I’m worth more than that. And I think that’s why you intimidated me at first. I’m not one of the women who will sleep with you at a signing because what happens there stays there.”

  His face suddenly changes into one of confusion. “Wait, what?”

  “It’s okay. I’m not judging. Well, maybe a little.” I go for the joke but it falls flat. “I just can’t be that person.”

  Matthew shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowed. “I… wait… one of what women who will sleep with me at a signing? I don’t… what does that mean?”

  A humorless laugh huffs out of me. “Matthew, the grapevine is pretty quick with romance readers. We love stories, even if it’s gossip about a male model sleeping with readers.”

  His hands cover his mouth lightly and I’m feeling just as confused as he looks. Why does he look like I’ve just pulled the rug out from underneath him?

  “Carrie, I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but I’ve never slept with a reader. And certainly not at a signing.”

  I huff in irritation. “You don’t have to lie to me. I heard it from more than one source. It’s okay. It’s your business.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I don’t know where that rumor started, but it’s a million percent not true.”

  “Wait… what?” Now it’s my turn to be confused.

  “I’ve had one one-night stand in my life and ended up with a kid. And every time I go to an event, there is an element of fangirl crazy. I purposely stay far away from that.”

  “But you hit on me the first time we met.”

  He opens his mouth to respond and then seems to change gears. “Uh, yeah. That was actually because I was trying to prove to Donna that I don’t always get the girl.”

  “Hold on.” I hold my hand up because this conversation has suddenly gone from being personal to completely convoluted. “You’re saying you’ve never slept with a reader?”

  “Never,” he says as he slowly shakes his head.

  “But I’ve heard it several times. Matthew Roberts, the cover model on Hazel Scott’s books, sleeping with readers.”

  “Um, I’ve never been on a Hazel Scott book. I’d love to. She’s got a huge reach, but she’s never asked for me.”

  What the hell is happening here? “What? Yes you have.”

  Pulling my phone out of my clutch I swipe it open and pull open the internet. Typing rapidly, I read what I’m doing. “What cover model is on Hazel Scott’s books. There.” I turn the screen around to show him what I’m searching. “This should settle things.”

  When the results load, I gasp and throw my hand over my mouth. “Ohmygod it’s Nathan Roberts.” Eyes wide, I look up at him in shock. “It wasn’t you.”

  It takes about two seconds for the shock to wear off and for Matthew to burst into laughter. “All this time you were avoiding me because you thought I was the man whore model?”

  “You don’t have to call him that,” I say sheepishly. And a little hypocritically since I’ve been apparently judging Matthew all this time.

  “No, it’s what he’s known as in our field. Everyone knows about him. Well, the model that has no problem spending time with the ladies, anyway. I just never asked who it was.”

  Matthew keeps laughing and I drop my chin down to my chest. “I am so embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be,” Matthew says. “It all makes sense now. No wonder you were so cranky with me.”

  I cross my arms, partially relieved. Partially irritated that he’s finding so much enjoyment in my misplaced judgement. And partially pissed at myself for being such a scatterbrained mess that I can mix up the names Nathan and Matthew. Maybe my mother was onto something with her Ritalin talk.

  “Don’t be mad.” Matthew moves toward me, putting his hands on my arms and rubbing the night chill away. “Anyone could have made a mistake. You were protecting yourself and your boundaries. Besides, you were right about one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You are worth more than just a hookup. You’re worth it all. Now go get that weird sleeping squirrel fed and go to bed. You need to sleep off some of that wine.”

  I laugh softly, grateful he isn’t going in for a kiss again. I’m too embarrassed to even consider locking lips tonight. Having no more problems with the lock, I let myself in and I quietly wave goodbye before closing the door behind me, strangely sad that our night is over. I’m glad we’ve cleared the air, but there is a good possibility it’s the first and last date-thing we’ll have together.

  Sometimes it sucks having different boundaries than most twenty-somethings that I know. Maybe it’s because I’m a romantic at heart, but I want a man to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s willing to sacrifice to make a relationship with me work. And sex? That’s a big thing for most men. It’s the ultimate sacrifice for some people.

  “Hi, Lukey. Do you need some more nuts?” I ask quietly, peeking into his cage. He wakes up for just a few seconds to look at me, then turns to bury himself under the blankets again. “I guess not. Goodnight, then.”

  Without Sven here to feed, it doesn’t take long to get ready for bed. Before I know it, the evening has been showered off of me, and I’m climbing under my own blankets, the night already becoming a distant memory.

  Just as I shut off my lamp, my phone lights up. It’s a text from Matthew.

  M: I have a confession. I really was going in for a kiss. I was just trying to save face in front of you after you turned. Sleep well, Carrie.

  His words make me smile and maybe a little relieved. If he’s not embarrassed, then neither am I.

  Chapter 15

  Matthew

  The book industry has changed a lot in the last few years. When I first started this gig, I didn’t have much to do in the way of marketing or staying visible on social media. Then the indie book community blew up, the number of authors grew rapidly as did the demand for models. When I met Donna Moreno everything changed. We not only hit it off professionally but became friends. As her friend, I want to support her in any
way I can. Unfortunately for me, I told her that one day and that’s why I have to do the one part of this job that makes me break into a cold sweat.

  Live social media videos.

  It’s one thing to record myself working out and edit that down to a ten second clip. But this whole live thing is not only nerve-racking, it feels ridiculous. The cover I’m promoting today has me lying on my stomach, shirtless, looking at the camera. It’s a simple pose on the surface but the amount of direction the photographer gives me about moving my chin, my elbow, the way my fingers hang. It’s absurd. Yet, there I am, in my black and white glory with my triceps engaged and my hair standing on end. Bedhead and bedroom eyes.

  This will do nothing to squelch the rumors Carrie informed me of. I can’t help but chuckle at that thought. No wonder she was so adamant to stay far away from me before. Hell, I don’t want anything to do with the man whore model either. It’s just not the type of person I want to associate myself with. Add her celibacy to the assumption I was sleeping around, her distance and attitude makes sense.

  My phone buzzes in my shorts pocket while I set up the tripod for my phone. It’s the third text from Donna this morning with a reminder to go live. As if I could forget. She also sent an email, tagged me in a few posts, and I’m sure if I look outside there’s a carrier pigeon sitting on my front step with a note strapped to his back.

  D: I’ve been stalking your stories. There is NOTHING MATTHEW!

  Me: R-E-L-A-X I’m setting up now. I had to drop off Sprite at school. I’ll be on in about ten. My hair isn’t quite “bedhead” per your request.

  D: Well mess it up! The ladies love that. TEN MINUTES!

  Laughing I slip my phone back in my pocket and continue setting up. Yes, I have to actually set up for this video. It’s like a really bad made-for-cable-television movie. First, I mess up my bed so it looks like I’ve been sleeping restlessly, or sexing it up. Then, I move to the bathroom to “mess up” my hair.

  While I’m adding pomade to my do, my thoughts drift to Carrie and our conversation on her porch. I knew she was nervous on the drive so I tried to keep the conversation neutral, choosing to ask about her blog. A safe topic.

  Never did I expect her to tense up as much as she did when I went in for a kiss. I don’t know what I thought she’d do, but turning her head so I became acquainted with her ear instead of her lips wasn’t it. It was like being an awkward teenager again, a girl turning her cheek to avoid my kiss so I did what any reasonable man would do. I hugged her. Awkwardly. Her limp body in my embrace was almost funny, but then she hit me straight in the gut.

  “I’m not looking for a hookup, Matthew. I want more than that. I’m worth more than that.”

  She’s right. She is worth more than a hookup. And, what’s funny is she has no idea I’ve been thinking the same thing. Not only about how great she is but also being over hookups in general. I want more too. For me and for Calypso. Do I think Carrie is that person? The one I’m willing to risk bringing into our lives, taking a chance on our feelings? I don’t know.

  There’s just something about Carrie. The way she was with Calypso, not only the first night they met but every time since. She’s patient and doesn’t mind answering the most mundane of questions. Her laugh is ridiculous but could easily destroy the worst of days. She’s beautiful. Not only in her looks, but in her heart. I meant what I said. She is worth more.

  But no sex? At all? That’s not something I expected. I’m also not sure if it’s a deal breaker. I’d like to say it isn’t, but it also isn’t a topic I’ve encountered before. If we were to get serious, would she change her mind? Would I have to make do with me, myself, and I? Or is that asking too much? I don’t know the answer, and it has my thoughts tangled.

  My phone vibrates again and I roll my eyes, not bothering to respond. Pushing aside my thoughts of Carrie, I walk back into my room and set my tablet up on the tripod. Settling under the covers, the sheet and comforter low on my hips, I check the screen to see if the waistband of my shorts is visible. Dammit, it is. I will not take my shorts off. That’s just taking this video to a level I’m not completely comfortable with. Instead, I unbutton them and lower the waist a little before pulling the comforter up a little farther.

  Twisting, I make sure my arm is positioned in a way that puts the intricate tattoo on my shoulder on display. Here goes nothing. I tap the live button and throw myself back on the pillows, left arm over my head, eyes relaxed as I smirk at the camera. The dimples I hated as a kid are in high demand these days. I feel like a complete weirdo lying like this. But there ya go, the number of viewers is rapidly increasing. Fifteen. Twenty-seven. Sixty-four.

  “Hey everyone. Matthew Roberts here.”

  One hundred fourteen.

  “How are y’all doing this morning? Is it morning where you are?”

  I see the comments jumping quickly, hellos and wave emojis. The reaction emojis are flying across the screen. Two hundred four. Time to engage a little.

  “Thanks, Lisa. I hope you have a great day too.”

  “Oh Michelle, I don’t think I’ll be at the Denver signing. How about Dallas in February?”

  Three hundred seventeen.

  I continue commenting for a few more minutes, throwing the occasional wink out when requested. I keep the responses neutral, not giving up too much of my personal life. I refuse to use my daughter in this aspect of my life and have become pretty well versed in deflecting topics back to books or the viewers themselves.

  “Whiskey is my drink of choice, Candace. If I see you at the bar, we’ll have to share a toast.”

  When the viewer tally hits three hundred seventy-two and seems to stall, I reach over to the nightstand and lift the book that is the reason for this video in the first place. Adjusting myself, I do a double take at the comment that floats across the screen.

  I would love to pay you a visit in your hotel room one night, Matthew. I’m sure we would be great together. I like it rough. Just like Jayden in Before Tomorrow.

  My eyes widen. Not only does this woman want to come to my random hotel room, she wants to have sex. And thinks I’m a fictional character in a book because I am on its cover. Okay, maybe Carrie had a point about the rumor mill. I can see how if you weren’t paying close attention to our names, you could assume I was taking people up on offers like this. Note to self: stay at a different hotel than the event. And book your room under an alias.

  “Have you guys seen the cover for Donna Moreno’s upcoming release? I was honored when she asked me to be part of the series.”

  Holding up the book, I watch as hearts fly across the screen.

  “It’s great, right? Make sure you’ve preordered your e-book copy before the release next month.”

  “Yes, Laura. I’m always willing to sign the paperbacks whenever I’m with Donna at an event. Hopefully we’ll see you in Dallas. Okay everyone, I need to get going. Thanks for hanging out with me this morning. Congrats to my good friend, Donna Moreno, on her new cover. Bye, all.”

  I toss the book to the side and lift up to click the end video button when I see the final comment. I’m told I have a great tongue. And, I’m done. No more live videos. Harmless flirting is one thing but propositioning me with a great tongue is a little more than I want in my life these days.

  Once I confirm the video is stopped and shared, I throw myself back on the pillows. This time, the position isn’t about looking sinful and sexy for the viewers, it’s more to contemplate what exactly I’m doing in my life. Not allowing myself to second guess anything, I tug my phone from my pocket and pull up my text messages.

  Me: How’s our baby boy?

  C: He’s getting stronger. Looks like he’s going to make it. Better get ready to pay me all the child support.

  Me: What is the going rate for a squirrel baby? Can I pay you in pecans?

  C: I’ll have to consult my attorney.

  C: Read any good blogs lately?

  Me: Yep. Turns out bloggers are rea
lly knowledgeable and witty.

  C: Obviously.

  C: Have a good day.

  Me: You too.

  With a smile on my face, I toss the covers from the bed and get myself ready for the day job. Gotta make that pecan money.

  Chapter 16

  Carrie

  Stopping Matthew’s video, I pull out my ear buds and try not to grimace at the comments. This is a time for relaxation, not to tense up. I’m getting my first pedicure in a month and although it’s not my usual place, Jamie has been raving about it so I thought I’d give it a try. I’m a sucker for a good pedicure.

  The video started out super sexy. No surprise there. He’s sexy. Plus, it’s part of his job as a cover model. Of course he’s involved in the promotion of the books that he’s featured on the cover. Social media is such a huge part of the release process and these days, it’s pretty standard to do something interesting for a cover reveal. Knowing Matthew as well as I do now, I have a feeling he put in a whole lot of effort to make a well-staged event. Yet, I also wouldn’t be surprised if he was wearing the bottom half of a snowsuit and two pairs of socks under the covers.

  He looked every bit the sinful and sexy cover model with his shoulder covered in beautiful intricate colors and bedhead as he interacted with his fans. The icky part for me was in the couple of hours since he posted it, hundreds of comments have been left. Many of them are so gross and inappropriate, it’s a wonder they haven’t been reported. The offer of being the meat in a Matthew Roberts-Spencer Garrison sex sandwich was particularly cringeworthy. After our date… thing, the whole situation kind of reiterates my point about why I want a solid relationship before jumping in the sack, and I kind of hate that.

  Don’t get me wrong, people can date or have sex however they want. I don’t care. I just don’t understand when the act of sex become so much more important than the getting to know each other part.