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I eyed Kieran critically, forgetting that he was my hottie roommate. He was advertising. I unsnapped the button on his jeans and tugged them down an inch to better show off his obliques—or as April liked to call it, his Adonis apron.
He didn’t move a single muscle or react in any way. Except the look in his eyes. For some reason I couldn’t explain, I had to look up at him. It was like the tide and I’d have had an easier time turning it than avoiding his stare.
It was hot, hungry, but it couldn’t possibly be for me.
Could it?
“That’s better.” I mumbled.
“Is it?” he asked, as if we were talking about something so banal as the weather, rather than me almost ripping his jeans off him.
“If that’s part of the treatment, I’m glad I signed up,” Brant said.
“Whatever. You know you’ll get that anyway,” Austin teased.
“Will he?” Kieran asked.
I pretended I didn’t hear him and walked out of the shot. Ryan kept snapping.
They moved through several other poses and dresses. The rest of the shoot went smoothly. It was obvious from the way everyone interacted, that they were having a good time.
Even when April showed up carrying two large picnic baskets. I didn’t know if I was glad to see her or not.
She hugged me tight. “I wanted to help. I hope it’s okay.”
What was I going to say to that? I didn’t even know how I felt about it. April had been one of my best friends, I thought. Until lately, when I really started thinking about some of the things she said to me.
Part of me didn’t believe that she was here to help. She was here for Kieran.
But what did that matter in the scheme of things? If he wanted to be with her, he would. There was nothing I, or anyone else could or should do about that.
So I hugged her back. “Thanks. That’s great. I’m sure everyone is getting hungry. I promised Ryan here breakfast.” I nodded to the photographer.
She beamed. “Great. When’s break time?”
Rosa pursed her lips. “Who invited the skinny girl? This is a fat girl only party.”
I thought about how it would feel if it was the other way around. This is a skinny girl only party. I knew she was teasing, but it wasn’t okay either.
I put my arm around her. “This is a gorgeous girl party.”
“You bet it is,” Brant said from where he was already rummaging through the baskets.
“There’s some beers in the trunk. And some soda,” April called to him.
“You’re the best,” he answered.
“So you know, Claire still hasn’t had her turn,” Kieran said.
“Oh!” Hollie exclaimed. “Come on, Rosa. We need to get her hair and makeup.”
“I really don’t think—”
“You promised us. Me and Brant.” Kieran reminded me.
“It’s a waste of everyone’s time. I’m not going to use them.”
“You’re not getting out of it, Claire.” Ryan grinned. “Remember? For my portfolio?”
I looked around at all of the expectant faces. “Fine.” Just because I agreed to do it didn’t mean I actually had to look at them.
8
After Hollie and Rosa finished pasting on eyelashes, makeup, and doing my hair, I stood in front of the Challenger and eyed it suspiciously.
They wanted me on the hood.
Not a fucking chance.
It just didn’t look that sturdy.
And if I dented it, I would die of utter and absolute humiliation.
No, no, and much more no.
“Yes, Claire.” It was as if Kieran could hear my thoughts. “I sit on it all the time.”
I shook my head without speaking.
“It’s reinforced. Special modification for that custom engine. Come on, baby.”
He called me baby.
I shook my head again, but this time it was more like a maraca. Maybe that would rattle those stupid thoughts out of my head.
April came to my rescue. “Here, use the blanket.” She spread out the red and white checkered blanket in front of the car.
“Yes!” I latched on to that idea.
“Oh, this is good. I like the contrast of colors.” Ryan motioned for me to get with the program.
I found myself being led to the blanket by both Brandt and Kieran.
“Wait, first shot let’s do all three with Claire. Sit down with your knees crossed. Then Claire, you’re going to lay across their laps,” Ryan directed.
I followed his directions. Everyone was so set on this course, so why the fuck not?
“Damn it, Austin. Your belt buckle is killing me,” I grumped.
“That’s not my belt buckle, sweetheart.”
My eyes went wide and the shutter kept clicking away.
“That’s it. That expression. Put your finger against your lips. Pin up style… faux startled. You know what I mean.”
