Vic immediately elbows me in the arm,
“Cut that out! He’s got a lot of stuff to do! Now, come on! Let’s go get beautimus!”
Linking our arms, she hauled us off through the doors and into what I will always refer to from now on as a torture chamber.
After what seems like ages of being ogled, snickered at, whispered about, picked, plucked, and painted upon, I was more than ready to head to wardrobe. Although, I had to give it to them. The shiny, wavy, movie star hair, smoky eyes, and plump pink lips were somewhat sexy.
It still wasn’t enough to shift me to the dark side, though. Vic could keep this modeling stuff. I’d been here for less than two hours and all the cattiness coming from Cassie’s corner was enough to make me sick. The look of sheer horror on her face when I walked in was priceless. If I weren’t here for Vic, and for Blurr, I would have punched that girl right in her fake boob. Considering the snotty comments, I thought Victoria was handling herself very well. Back in high school, she would have put that girl in her place, but she must really be serious about staying with this agency because every time the shorthaired brunette spoke, Vic would visibly cringe and then almost instantly compose herself.
I was pretty sure she was just turning into a ticking time bomb, but I wasn’t about to say anything.
As they finished up with Vic’s hair, I headed off to wardrobe.
I had a few minutes, so I stole away, grabbing a handful of my resumes, and a stack of my cd’s. I had remixed and re-mastered a few popular songs, along with producing a few of my own acoustic songs on the cd. I had never let anyone hear them before, so today was a huge step for me. Determined to hand these out to at least a couple of the suits I saw standing around, I hold my music close to my chest, take a deep breath, and put on a smile as I make my way around the room.
Not ten minutes later, as I find my way back to Victoria in wardrobe, slumping into the nearest chair with a visible frown.
She glances at me with worried eyes. Pouting, I shake my head.
“They completely brushed me off.”
“You there, Purple! Come on,” a voice calls out from behind me. I turn to see an older woman, about five feet tall with white hair, holding up a hanger with lingerie on it.
My eyes nearly roll out of my skull, turning my head back to my friend. I had been so distracted by the bust that was handing out my demo that I failed to notice my best friend dressed in nothing but a red corset and heels.
What the hell?
“I’m sorry, what is that?” I ask, turning back to the old woman and pointing to the hanger.
“These are you’re damn clothes. Now, go get dressed. The shoot will be starting in a few minutes.”
My eyes dart back to Vic, who has already prepared with her most apologizing and pleading puppy dog eyes.
Sighing, I turn grudgingly back to the hanger, making my way over to the lady to take it from her.
After really eyeing the skimpy bra and panty set, I couldn’t help the laugh that escapes me.
“This must have been for the other model. That bra won’t fit me. I’m not anywhere close to a B cup, sister.”
Without hesitating, the old broad lifts up my top and looks at the bra I’m wearing. She sighs loudly and frowns.
“Well, give me a minute and I’ll come up with something,” she mumbles and heads off to the rack of clothes.
I didn’t even have to turn around to hear the laughter coming, not only from my roommate, but her stylist and Cassie, too.
Glancing over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of the other model in a black get-up that resembles something like a vest and panty set. I turn around just in time to have another hanger thrown at me.
“Keep your own bra on. I don’t need your girls spilling out of one of the smaller ones, but these should fit you fine. Don’t forget the shoes. Hurry it up.”
I made my way back behind a makeshift curtain and glance down at my impending doom. A skimpy, thin, white cotton tank top with a faded skull on the front. I sigh as I pull it on, realizing that it just barely covers my bellybutton. Gazing back at the hanger, I frown—purple hot pants.
Ah hell.
Victoria owes me so big. Epically big.
I reluctantly finish putting on the rest of my ensemble and head out. I am intent on cussing out my friend just for the hell of it, but she isn’t in the wardrobe area anymore.
The little old lady checks me over, but gives me the O.K. on the outfit, and I make my way out of the room only to run smack into Vic.
“I’m gonn—”
“Before you say anything, Chase, I just want you to know that I had no idea, I mean, NO FUCKING IDEA!”
It’s then I notice her face is twisted with concern. She’s seriously upset.
All right, it’s just hot pants! I mean, I’ll live.
“Really, Vic. I’m not happy about it, but whatever. I get to take it off in a little bit, and forget I ever wore the damn things. No big deal. A warning would have been nice though.”
I wasn’t going to let her off the hook so easy, but she was starting to worry me with her ‘about to barf’ face.
“What? Oh, yeah, that’s not even close to what I’m talking about. You know I wouldn’t have brought you here if I had known, right? Right? Just say yes, Chase!” she pleads desperately, grabbing my hands in hers and squeezing them.
I look into her wide, worried, brown eyes and before I can answer, Cassie comes running up to us with a huge grin plastered to her pretty face.
“OH MY GOD! Can you believe it? Can you believe that we are doing the new freaking album cover with Vengeful Honor? I’m dying right now. Literally – dying! The guys just walked in and they are so hot. I mean, like, scorching. Remind me to kiss David when I see him!” She is all but squealing before trotting off toward the set.
I don’t remember hearing much for a few moments after that. Somewhere after hearing Vengeful Honor, I’m pretty sure I blacked out.
Squeezing my eyes firmly, I try to wake myself up. I hear Vic talking, but it’s all a warbled mess by the time my brain begins to process it. It was already busy firing off other thoughts.
Avery.
I was about to come face to face with Avery. Not just any Avery, an ENGAGED Avery.
All my previous ideas and dreams about one day reuniting with him were washed away the moment I read all about him being with his high school sweetheart for the last four years. The math was easy; he didn’t stay because of her. He didn’t try to make sense of our week together because he didn’t need to. He hadn’t wanted more because he had a girl back home all along.
“I’m going to kill you,” I state calmly to my friend, keeping my eyes closed.
“What? No! Shut up!”
“What the hell am I gonna do, Vic?”
“I’d lick him.”
“Jesus, Vic!”
“Bite him. Kiss him. God, there isn’t much I wouldn’t do.”
“Why do I even talk to you?”
“Because I’m awesome.”
“You’re insane!”
“You look hot as hell.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t. And you sure don’t hate him.”
“No, I think hate is a great word right now.”
“Seriously, if he were gonna see you, right now is the perfect time! Pure torture!”
I start shaking my head, “Uh-uh! No! No freaking way do I want him to know it’s me!”
I look down at my tattoos and realize that he may not even recognize me, even if he did remember me.
“There’s no way he will recognize me, so I intend to keep it that way.”
Vic’s playful face falls, “But—”
I widen my eyes and shake my head, “No! You had better not say anything either. Remember, you owe me and now you owe me times a thousand. NOT A WORD!”
She nods as the crew calls out for the models. My heart starts to race as we approach the set for the shoot. A huge green screen sits beh
ind a giant black, wooden throne and a couple black square stools. A group of four guys, dressed in black jeans and t-shirts, is standing across the room with their backs to us, laughing, and talking to David and a few other suits, as well as the photographer. As my eyes see that shaggy blonde hair, my heart slowly stutters. He turns slightly, running a hand through his hair, giving me a side view of him smiling for the first time in almost four years.
I suddenly feel like I am eighteen all over again.
My god, he’s beautiful. Unable to control it, my brain flashes back to a private moment between him and I, where my hands were all kinds of wrapped up in that sexy, just out of bed hair, and his mouth was…
I feel a tug at my hand, and I look up at Vic only to realize I had stopped dead in my tracks to stare. I shake my head, feeling my cheeks blush for the first time in ages.
I swear it feels like the seconds drag as we wait for the band to finish their conversation with their entourage. It gives me plenty of time to freak out, calm down, gaze longingly, get angry, stare daggers, and then repeat a few more times than I’d like to admit. Avery never turns our way, though. It’s probably a good thing that our eyes haven’t met yet because I have absolutely no clue what I will say or do. As much as I have wanted to forget about him, I still remember the way my body has a mind of its own when it comes to that boy. Honestly, how could I forget the insanely hot way he would bite on his bottom lip or play with that piercing?
Insert the gaze longingly part here.
Cassie wasn’t lying though—the boys are extremely good-looking. Pictures really didn’t do the real thing justice at all. Avery, of course, is ridiculously gorgeous. The sexiest man alive in my eyes, and probably a contender for People magazine. Then there is Jesse Morgan; too cute for words with his black version of Avery’s blonde hair, and his piercing blue eyes. The bassist is incredibly tall and lean, with muscles in all the right places, and a few piercings and tattoos of his own; he isn’t hard on the eyes either, that’s for sure.
Neither is Adam Stone, the group’s drummer. Just a tad bit shorter than the other guys, with the most adorable, deep mahogany brown eyes. His dark hair is shaved into a short, buzzed Mohawk, just enough edge to give off some punk rock attitude. Built like a brick house, he has biceps a girl could undoubtedly hang from, and they probably have. He’s well known as the playboy of the group.
Then there’s Kennedy Graham. The quietest member of the band with the face of a Greek god. To quote Victoria, he didn’t need to say much with a face like that. His golden blonde locks are cut short and styled in a spiked fashion, and his brilliant hazel eyes are famous for making the ladies swoon.
“DIBS!” Vic whispers far too loudly as Cassie finally approaches us, who like my friend and I, is openly drooling over the band.
Cassie cut her eyes to Vic with a severely dirty look, “Dammit! All right, which one?”
I raise an eyebrow, unsure of what in the hell I was observing between the two girls that disliked each other, but I kept my mouth shut.
“Tall, short blonde hair, pinch-able ass, freakin’ hot, and mine!” Vic says in an embarrassingly breathy tone. I bit my bottom lip to stifle a laugh. The girl sure has a way with words.
Cassie eyes the group and nods, “Fair enough.”
For a moment, I contemplate calling ‘dibs’, but the sinking feeling that there isn’t anyone for me to lay claim to creeps up on me quickly. I shake it off and just as I turn to say something to Victoria, I hear a catcall whistle from across the room. The three of us quickly lift our gaze up to the group of guys and a pair of chocolate browns and baby blues are staring straight back at us.
“I understand that the album isn’t ready, but your label wants to go ahead and get the cover done as scheduled. The shoot shouldn’t take long…” babbled on the photographer, a petite lady with short brown hair, but Adam’s attention had been snagged by something much more important.
Smacking the back of Jesse’s shoulder, he lifted his chin in the direction of a group of scantily clad ladies.
“Holy shit, please tell me that’s not a mirage,” the drummer whispered. Jesse’s eyes scanned until they fell on the same sight.
“Damn! Take a look at that one, dude! She is completely tatted out. Oh my god, is she wearing garters?” Jesse said in a hushed voice, biting the back of his knuckle.
Adam let a whistle out, and the girl’s faces instantly raised to meet their gazes.
“Are we done talking yet? Can we get to the shoot now?” Adam asked, hesitantly turning back to the rest of the group. Jesse just nodded, never taking his eyes off the group of now laughing ladies.
I couldn’t face the group once they started looking our way. I just couldn’t. The way my heart was pounding erratically was starting to annoy the living hell out of me. I had traveled down this road far too many times before.
An eighteen year old doesn’t have a clue what love is and surely doesn’t find it in a weeks’ time with a guy that takes her virginity and leaves without—well just leaves! He was my first crush and my first first. That’s it. Nothing more.
Reciting this mantra should have prepared me for the next hour, but it sure as hell did not.
Once the boys are arranged, Avery on the throne, Jesse on the floor leaning against the bottom of the chair, Adam standing with a leg propped up on a stool, and Kennedy sitting down on the other, the photographer takes a few test shots of them solo.
Unlike the other band members, Avery’s eyes never wander to us. Instead, they seem lost, consumed. I start chewing on my bottom lip, wondering what was bothering him. Probably issues with his fiancé.
Begin staring daggers now.
“All right girls! Let’s get you in the shot!” calls out the photographer as she makes a few adjustments on her camera.
My nerves start up into overdrive.
“Hell yeah! Come on over ladies, I don’t bite, unless you’re into that sort of thing,” Adam says with a devilish grin as we make our way onto the set.
“All right, you, the blonde—name?” the photographer asks in a hurry.
“It’s Victoria. The brunette is Cassie, and purple there is Ch—Melanie.” I let out a sigh and give Vic a quick smile as she winks at me.
“All right, Victoria. I want you on the throne with Avery, lying across his lap. Cassie, was it? I want you standing against the back of Kennedy over here, draping an arm around him. Then Melanie, I want you over here by Adam, kind of on your knees as if you’re trying to crawl up him.”
“Dammit!” Jesse mutters, causing the other guys to laugh.
“Angie, I think I love you!” Adam calls out to the photographer. She waves him off, still busy with a few assistants as she preps for the shoot.
I laugh to myself, somewhat at the flirty boy’s comment, but mostly at my relief of not being paired with him.
Determined not to torture myself, I keep my eyes focused on one spot until I reach Adam, who does not hide the fact that he is keeping his eyes intensely busy.
“Well, hello there!” he drawls, licking his lips as his eyes travel up and down my body in a way that should have made me uncomfortable, but instead it just made me giggle. I just shake my head and reach out a hand.
“Hi. Melanie. Nice to meet ya,” I say softly, shaking his hand.
“Adam. The pleasure is all mine, but I’m very good at sharing,” he says with a sexy smirk that would have melted my panties clear off if I had been any other girl.
My playful side would have bantered with the guy, but I don’t want to draw any more attention to myself when I’m no more than six feet away from Mr. Sexy Mouth himself.
Blushing only a tiny bit, I get into my assigned position. Adam looks down at me and wags his eyebrows in a suggestive manner as I place my hands on his legs and try not to laugh out loud. This man is insufferable!
After we all settle in to our various poses, with a few adjustments here and there, the photographer gets a couple shots and then lets out a loud sigh.<
br />
“Nope. I don’t like it. Ladies, let’s switch this up. Cassie, I want you to stay where you are, just move over a little and change your arms up. You two ladies, switch it up.”
All of the air in the room completely disappears, leaving me straining for a single breath.
When I feel a tap on my shoulder, I shoot up like a bottle rocket. Vic’s eyes find my bulging ones and she offers me the only thing she can—a soft, crooked ‘I’m sorry’ smile.
“You will be fine. You’re top is long enough on the one side that if you keep it down he will never even see the tattoo,” she leans in and quickly whispers in my ear.
HOLY SHIT.
I completely forgot all about that! It’s a dead giveaway!
I swallow hard and nod at her, hoping my heart will stop hammering away in my chest.
“You ladies talking about me?” Adam asks, giving my friend’s body the same appreciative roaming gaze he gave mine. She turns quickly to him and smiles.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she says in her best southern-bell tone.
My feet feel like anchors as I slowly turn and walk the few steps over to the throne. I keep my head down, somehow holding on to the insane idea that if I don’t look up at him, this moment doesn’t really have to happen. That I wasn’t really about to be sprawled out, half naked in the lap of the one man that makes my knees weak. Made my knees weak.
Oh hell, my knees are non-freaking existent right now.
From his spot on the floor, Jesse smiles up at me, winking as I take my first dreaded step up. I think I smile back, but I’m not entirely sure. As my foot hits the second step, my eyes flutter shut, and I take the deepest breath of my life.
“Nervous?”
That rich, baritone voice pierces right through me, sending chills down my body and a jolt right to my heart.
My eyes fly open and meet his charcoal gray ones, the moment stealing the breath from my lips. I feel it almost instantly. An unhindered and unwelcomed fluttering down in the pit of my stomach.
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