The Write Stuff (Write Stuff 1)

My feet sank into the warm, dry sand that within a few hours would be too hot to walk on without shoes or sandals to protect your feet. I trudged toward the water, shielding my eyes with my hand as I tried to make out Olivia in the distance. Even wearing sunglasses, the bright sun made it hard to see her without squinting. Finally, I spotted her standing ankle deep in water barking instructions to two models who had waded into the water up to their waists.

I could tell Olivia was not satisfied by the way she gnawed at her lip. She was never one to hide her emotions. Wondering what had gotten her thong in a bundle, I looked toward the models, wondering if maybe they were having an off day. I recognized Natasha. She was always a pro. The guy was unfamiliar to me, but as my eyes widened, I'm fairly certain I may have gasped. No wonder all the moms I had walked past were staring so intently. Whoever he was, the model Olivia had hired was possibly the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on. Scratch that. He was beyond handsome. This guy was downright gorgeous. I found myself hypnotized by his perfectly sculpted pecs and broad shoulders. He looked like a freaking damn Adonis, standing in the gentle waves that lapped at his taut stomach. His chiseled abs begged to be licked.

I shook my head to regain my senses. Errant thoughts like this were not normal for me. Don't get me wrong. I could appreciate a good-looking, sexy man as much as the next girl, but I'd never openly gawked at any guy before. Clearly my mind was still stuck in the sexy scene I had been writing when Olivia called earlier. How else could I explain the fact that I wanted to launch myself at him and beg him to make me his sex slave? Honestly, it should be against the law to have a body that perfect.

I stopped for a moment, realizing I was in no condition to meet someone like that. Freaking Olivia. I was going to kill her for dragging me out here looking like a wreck when she knew she was photographing someone who gave Ryan fucking Gosling a run for his money. I would have turned around and hightailed it back to my jeep if Olivia hadn't already seen me and waved me over.

Mr. Adonis watched me as I approached. In a total cliché move, I pushed my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose and peeked over the tops of the lenses to get a better look at him. Olivia appeared at my side, yanking my arm to get my attention. Turning my head, I faintly heard her say hello, but barely acknowledged it as my eyes focused instead on the demigod in the water. Olivia regained my attention when she waved at the two models who threw her a return wave before walking toward the shore. I tried to look away, but my traitorous eyes told me to eff off, refusing to move from the pair of models who appeared regal as they strolled out of the water.

Olivia looked torn between amusement and frustration. "Jesus, Nicole. Did you have a fight with a bag of Cheetos or something?" she asked, tugging on my shirt and shaking her head at the large chocolate stain. "And what's with the hair? That's quite the bold statement you're making there."

"Whatever, skank. I tried to tell you I couldn't come, but you freaking said you needed me, like right now," I said, mocking her desperate tone from our phone conversation earlier.

"I didn't mean you couldn't take two minutes to change your clothes."

I held up my hand, stopping her before she could say another word. "Just remember, paybacks are an uberbitch." I tried to dust off and smooth out my clothes, but the attempt was futile. The only thing that would improve my appearance at the moment would be a genie popping out of a magic lamp.

Looking around, I noticed every female eye on the beach was still glued to the man candy show. For good reason. He was pure sex on a damn lollipop stick. Water glistened and rolled down his lean, muscular body in a way that I would have believed had been Photoshopped if I wasn't seeing it with my own eyes.

Unfortunately, Mr. Sex on a Stick took full notice of my appearance, but not for the reasons I would have preferred. Messy clothes or windblown hair would have been better than why his eyes had momentarily fixated on my chest. A slight gust of wind had blown across the beach at just the right angle, cluing me in that I had forgotten to put on a bra before leaving my apartment.

Yep, I was going to bury Olivia in a shallow grave. I wished I hadn't left my phone in the jeep because I would have asked Siri where the best place was to dump Olivia's body. Siri would help. Siri would have never led me blind into an embarrassing situation like this.

Chapter Two

The unfortunate timing of the gust of wind and my body's reaction had caught Olivia's attention as well. She stepped in front of me like a Secret Service agent protecting the president. I'm sure her intention was to be more discreet, but all she did was draw more attention to my hard nipples that suddenly had a mind of their own. What was it about a woman's nipples that made them want to stand at attention at the worst possible moment?

"You know Natasha, of course. Alec, this is my best friend, and author of the book we're trying to shoot the cover for. That is, if we can get these bitch-ass waves to cooperate—Nicole Blake, or N.S. Blake to her readers. Obviously, fashion isn't her strong point."

I looked aghast at Liv before shaking Alec's hand awkwardly. "Nicole is fine," I said, folding my arms across my chest.

"Nicole, this is Alec Petropoulos."

"Nice to meet you, Nicole. I hope I'm what you were looking for."

"Huh? I—" His comment took me by surprise and I began choking on my own saliva. Either I was really that obvious, or he could read my mind. Olivia's eyes sparkled with laughter. I was so glad my grief could be a source of great delight for her. It was all fun and games until my next book, when I would write her in as a character and kill her off by dropping a meteor on her head. After something completely humiliating happened to her first, of course. Maybe she'd forgotten we'd been friends since middle school and there was plenty of good material I could use. She wouldn't look so smug then.

I glared at her one last time as I tried to recover from my sudden coughing fit. Pulling myself together, I pasted a bright smile on my face just as it occurred to me I'd also forgotten to brush my teeth. I could only imagine how my teeth looked considering my cheese puff-covered pants. I wanted to bury my head in the sand.

"Whoa, you okay?" Alec returned the smile and placed his hand on my shoulder. My knees shook slightly like the ground was moving beneath my feet. I seriously needed to get a grip. I was acting like some sixteen-year-old virgin from Dorkville. Which, if I had to be completely honest, was partially true. Not the age part, but technically you could say I was still a virgin. It wasn't a conscious decision I had made. The timing just never seemed to be right. Story of my life, so far. There was a groping session gone awry sophomore year in high school when Mitch Klein couldn't figure out how to unclasp my bra. Then his parents came home, putting the brakes on the attempt. We broke up before we could try again. The only other time I came close was on prom night, senior year, but Paul Dent got a little too ahead of himself before we could do the deed, ending things prematurely—if you get my drift. By the time I started college, my plan was to wait for the right guy. I was still waiting.

Standing on the beach, Alec's hand felt like something more than a simple gesture. It was something delicious and toe curling that made my dormant body parts come to life with a roar.

The sound of Olivia chuckling broke my reverie. As if I hadn't mortified myself enough, I suddenly realized I had grasped Alec's hand from my shoulder and continued to shake it like a goober. "Sorry," I said, dropping his hand like it was a snake ready to strike. This was why I usually remained holed up in my apartment when I wasn't in class. I was a total introvert who did not belong in public. It was my service to everyone.

Trying to regain an ounce of dignity, I turned to Natasha, but completely overcompensated, throwing my arms around her like we hadn't seen each other in years. Unfortunately, I didn't consider the fact that we were standing on uneven sand in ankle-deep water. If I had, maybe we wouldn't have tumbled backward into the oncoming waves. Considering how my morning had gone, I shouldn't have been surprised.

"Well, there goes my shot," Olivia muttered as Natasha and I came up sputtering saltwater.

Natasha 's shocked expression would have been hilarious had the circumstances been different, but now I just felt terrible. "Shit, Natasha. I am so sorry," I groaned, taking in her soaked hair.

"Don't worry about it. You just caught me off guard, that's all," she said, trying to regain her balance in the waves. Alec reached out to help us up. At least he was gentlemanly enough to contain his laughter until we were on our feet.

Olivia, on the other hand, didn't have that kind of tact. She pulled me to the side and hissed quietly so Alec and Natasha wouldn't hear our exchange. "I called you down here to help me get the shot right. Not to totally sabotage it." If anything, Olivia was always professional. She tugged me toward her by the shirt. "And since when are you a hugger? I thought they made you feel awkward."

"Obviously. Look what happened when I tried," I whispered. "Don't forget this is all your damn fault. You dragged me from my apartment looking like this. I didn't even have a chance to brush my teeth." She had a lot of nerve trying to blame me for this fiasco.