The first-string QB is a real sweetheart. If he and Demi weren’t so stinking cute together, I’d make a play for him myself. But the guy only has eyes for my bestie. Amusingly enough, everyone else could see that but her.
I glance at my roommate before smirking at him. “Why thank you, Rowan. That would be incredibly helpful. You’re cool with modeling in the buff, right?”
He blinks, blue eyes widening before he gives his girlfriend a bit of side-eye. Her lips tremble around the edges.
“Umm...like, naked?” he asks, shifting uncomfortably on the bench.
“Yup, we’re talking full-on nudity. And you’ll have to pose for at least a couple of hours so I can draw every inch of you.”
“Oh.” There’s a pause as ruddy color rushes into his cheeks. “Sorry,” he mutters, “I’m gonna have to retract my offer. There’s only one girl who gets to see the goods.”
A gurgle of laughter escapes from me as Demi presses a kiss against his cheek.
“You’re so adorable when you’re embarrassed,” she chuckles.
She might be laughing, but it’s doubtful she’d be cool with her hot boyfriend posing naked for me. Even if it is for a school art project.
Just as my phone lights up with an incoming call, a hard body slides into the booth next to me. I pounce on my cell, shooting a glance at the guy now invading my personal space as his hip bumps into mine.
“Hello?” My gaze becomes ensnared by Brayden’s dark one as I answer the call. He’s way too close for comfort. I blink and attempt to focus on the conversation. It turns out to be another model who isn’t able to sit for me.
Crap.
This is turning out to be more problematic than I assumed. I should have realized all the good ones would get snapped up. Honestly, I only meant to put it off for a week or two until a bigger chunk of my accounting project was completed and I could turn my attention to art. Except the class consumed more time than I thought, and now that I’m ready to get to work, everyone I normally partner with is otherwise engaged.
Where are the procrastinators when you need them?
Apparently, I’m the only one.
When Brayden’s gaze takes a leisurely stroll of my body, I shoot him a dirty look before refocusing my attention on the call.
“Are you sure?” I wheedle. “I promise it’ll only take four hours of your time. Five, at the most. You know how quickly I work.”
From the corner of my eye, I watch as Brayden shifts toward me. The guy doesn’t even attempt to disguise the fact that he’s listening intently to my private conversation. I can practically feel the burn of his gaze. As much as I try to stifle it, a sizzle of awareness slides through me. It starts in my fingertips before gradually working its way through my body until it reaches my toes. My entire being feels electrified by his perusal. I lock my jaw and steel myself against the unwanted sensations coursing through me.
If there’s one guy on this campus that I refuse to be attracted to, it’s Brayden Kendricks. Unfortunately, someone needs to give that memo to my hormones. Anytime I’m around the guy, my body goes haywire. It takes effort to stomp out the flames attempting to ignite in my core.
Barely do I hear the model on the other end of the phone explain that he’s already working with two other art students and can’t possibly take on anything more with his schedule. If I thought that pleading would change his mind, I would happily do it. I’m not above groveling.
It’s a little disconcerting when I realize that I’m once again staring at Brayden. And that he’s wearing his usual smirk. The one that makes me gnash my teeth every single time he flashes it my way.
I force my gaze from the dark-haired football player and concentrate on the conversation at hand. “No problem, I understand. Just,” I bite my lip before lowering my voice, “let me know if anything changes with your schedule. I’m kind of desperate here.”
That’s the third model I’ve struck out with. As I hit disconnect, a disheartened breath escapes from my lips.
When Brayden’s knee bumps into mine, another unwanted sizzle of awareness shoots through me. “What was that about?”
My gaze flickers in his direction before skittering away. I find it easier to hold a conversation with the guy if I don’t have to stare at him for too long. He’s not just good looking, he’s stupid pretty. We’re talking chiseled cheekbones. Long, Romanesque nose. Broody mouth. Dark eyes that feel like they can see straight down to your very soul. Perfectly tousled hair that begs female fingers to tunnel through it.
And I haven’t even mentioned his body. He’s like a Greek god carved from marble. The artist in me would delight in sketching him. Especially in the nude. Can you even imagine his sinewy musculature?