"That man really loves you."
"I know," I answer Brenna, unable to fight a sappy grin.
We're standing backstage, watching as my boyfriend walks the lengthy
runway bisecting the enormous ballroom of the Arbor House, a historic mansion
in Hastings and our venue for tonight. Fitz's swim briefs hug his perfect ass, and
his thigh muscles ripple with power as his long strides eat up the runway.
On the other side of the wings, Bianca and her Kappa sisters are also
enjoying the show. Every time another half-naked hockey player steps onto the
stage, they sigh dreamily. The girls already strutted their stuff to thunderous
applause. My bikinis were a hit, but the plunging one-piece Bianca closed the
girls' line with was the clear winner of the night.
Bianca catches me looking, and she gives an enthusiastic wave. I wave back
with a smile. I didn't see Kaya in the audience tonight, which tells me she never
ended up endorsing her sisters' side project. But who cares. The Kappas came
through for me, and I owe them for that.
Beyond the curtains, Fitz reaches the end and does the turn like we'd
practiced, albeit awkwardly. The people occupying the rows of seats on either
side of the runway break out in applause, and my smile doubles in size.
As I suspected, the briefs are a wee bit loose in the front, since Rex's rocket
is slightly bigger than Fitzy's. But that's not to say my man doesn't fill out a pair
of briefs fantastically. And besides, I honestly wouldn't have cared if half the
swimsuits hadn't fit. I'm just thrilled we managed to find replacements for all six
players.
Someone else isn't as thrilled, though. Erik Laurie sits in the front row with
the other members of the faculty, including Mallory Reyes, the department head.
Laurie holds his program in his lap, fashionable as ever in a pinstriped suit and
with his hair slicked away from his high forehead and clean-shaven face.
A face that's harder than stone as he stares at my model. Correction, at my
boyfriend, who is so fucking hot it's almost…otherworldly. Yup. No other way
to describe the oiled-up, muscled, tattooed man putting himself on display for
me.
"I want to go out there and bang him on the runway," I growl. "In front of
everybody. I don't even care."
"I don't blame you," Brenna answers. "Look at that body. He's
magnificent."
He really is. And the relief on his face when he returns backstage is almost
comical.
"I feel like I'm going to ralph," he groans.
I tamp down a laugh. "You were so good!" I assure him. "But, quick. We
need to get Rex's trunks on you because you're walking again after Nate."
Each designer was given our own dressing space sectioned off by a curtain,
and I shove Fitz toward mine. His second swimsuit is nowhere near as skimpy as
the first one. I saved the trunks for last so he could be done with the awkward
briefs right off the bat.
Fitz scratches his bare chest, then remembers that Brenna and I rubbed oil
over all the guys before the show started. His big paw is glistening now, and he
bites his tongue seductively before saying, "I'm all oily. Can you take these off
for me?"
I roll my eyes. "Oily hands in no way prevent you from taking your own
briefs off." But I still hook my fingers under his elastic waistband, because what
woman would ever say no to sliding what's essentially underwear off this
hottie's body?
I slip my hands under the briefs and squeeze his butt cheeks. His ass is so
muscular, it's insane.
Fitz's eyes flare. "Don't do that," he warns. "You'll make me hard."
"You're the one who wanted me to undress you."
"You're right. What was I thinking?" He swats my hands away and drops
trou on his own.
I have one brief, glorious moment to admire his sweet penis before he has
the trunks on and is tightening the drawstring. "How do I look?" he asks.
"Fuckable." I reach around to smack his ass. "Now get back to work."
He chuckles as I usher him out of the dressing space and get him in position.
Nate walks off the runway, and Fitz steps onto it, but before he walks, he winks
at me and murmurs, "I wouldn't do this for just anybody, you know."
"I know. And I love you for it."
Brenna sighs as he disappears. "You two are so sappy."
"Yup. I own that." I grin at her. "You still seeing McCarthy?" She's being
very mum about her love life lately.
She shrugs. "Not really. He's in Boston. I'm in Hastings. I'm not going to
make that much of an effort for a Harvard boy."
"What if it was Connelly?" I counter. "Would you make the trek to see
him?"
"What's with you and Connelly?" she demands in exasperation. "I swear,
you're obsessed with the guy. He's an arrogant ass, Summer."
"But he's so hot."
"Arrogant asses tend to be hot. That's how they become arrogant asses."
Fitz returns with loud cheers in his wake, and I urge Hollis to get out there.
He's closing my show, and he milks the finale for all he's worth. Flexing his
biceps as he plants his hands on his hips. Showing off the hard ridges of his abs
as he does his turn. And then my part is over and the Kappa sisters are hugging
me, and a few of my classmates congratulate me on a job well done.
Ben is up next, so my friends and I clear the wings for him and his models.
Brenna and the Kappas go to sit in the audience while Fitz and the others change
into their clothes. I thank each of them profusely for their help, and a pang of
sadness tugs at my heart at Hunter's noticeable absence. Fitz and I agreed it's
best to give Hunter space, but it still sucks knowing I'd hurt him.
When it's just Fitz and me (and he's wearing clothes), I grab the back of his
head to tug his mouth to mine. "Thank you," I whisper against his lips. "You
literally saved my life."
"Well, not literally," he whispers back.
"Literally," I argue, and his lips twitch in humor before covering mine again.
Someone gasps from behind us, and we break apart to see Nora standing
several feet away. At first she's pale with shock, but then her lips twist in a nasty
grimace and she spits out, "I can't believe you, Fitz. That's who you were
talking about? Her?"
And then she stomps off, her pink-streaked black hair whipping as she spins
around.
I turn to him in confusion. "What did she mean, what you were talking
about? When did you talk to her?"
"Right after we slept together for the first time," he says gruffly. "I told her I
couldn't go out with her again because I started seeing somebody."
"Oh. You didn't mention that."
"To be honest, I forgot."
I'd forgotten about Nora too, at least in relation to Fitz. She's no longer a
threat to me, although I do feel bad that she witnessed us kissing when I know
she had a crush on him.
Do you, though? inner Selena Gomez asks. I can tell she's trying not to stick
her tongue out at me.
Fine. Maybe I don't feel that bad.
"Should I go talk to her?" he says in concern.
"Absolutely not," I say cheerfully. "She's a big girl, and she'll get over it."
THE FASHION SHOW ENDS AROUND NINE THIRTY, WHICH WAS WHEN IT WAS
scheduled to start before Laurie decided that tearing apart my essay and
embarrassing me in front of the class wasn't enough. But his attempt to sabotage
me tonight failed. And I don't miss the anger in his eyes when Mallory Reyes
pulls me aside at the Briar-hosted after-party and raves about my designs. She
can't get enough of the bohemian influence mingled with my modern glam style,
and she says as much to Laurie as he stands there glowering at me over her head.
"Come talk to me before the semester ends so we can brainstorm your work
placement for your senior year. I have some ideas." She glances at Laurie. "I
adore this girl's style, Erik. It's a lot of fun."
"Very fun," he agrees, but the unchecked anger in his eyes betrays his airy
tone.
I don't give a shit how much he hates me, though. The independent study is
pass/fail, and there's no possible way he can fail me after Mallory spent the past
ten minutes gushing about my work. Even better, she's the one who'll be
reviewing my midterm appeal once I begin the process.
I have a feeling it's going to go in my favor.
I excuse myself and do some mingling. Fitz stays by my side, looking less
miserable than usual at having to attend a social function. He's evolving, my
sweet-penis man. I'm proud of him.
His teammates take up residence at one of the two bars. Since the party is
being hosted by the university's Fine Arts department, the bartenders aren't
serving anyone without ID. But most of us are of age, and I sip a wine spritzer
while Fitz drinks a beer, and we stand there watching the crowd for a bit. Brenna
is on the other side of the room chatting with Hollis. They're laughing about
something, and every time she throws her head back, I notice a spark of hope in
his eyes. Poor Mike. One of these days he's going to have to accept that she's
not interested in him.
Fitz gets drawn into hockey talk with Nate and Matt, so I wander around and
mingle some more. At one point I bump into Nora and nearly compliment her on
her show. Her punk-rock-inspired dresses had been pretty incredible. But her
eyes blaze the moment we collide, so I simply murmur an apology and keep
walking.
A bit later, I see her at the bar chatting with Laurie, and her expression is
drastically brighter. She's sipping on a pink cocktail, and he's holding a glass of
red wine. He touches her arm, and then he winks and tweaks a strand of her
black-and-pink hair. She giggles.
Looks like Nora got her wish—she's finally the exclusive recipient of
Laurie's attention. Well, she can have the slimy bastard. Good riddance.
The party is winding down when my phone vibrates in the back pocket of my
skinny jeans. I pull it out to find a text from Rex.
REX: Saw on Snapchat da hockey boys rocked it. Pissed tho. We wanted to do
it!!
ME: I know you did, sweetie
REX: Still on for the after party, tho? Got all these kegs here. Shame to waste
em.
I walk back to the bar and address Fitz and the others. "Are you down for the
after-after-party at Rex's?"
"Sure," Fitz says, although grudgingly. "If you want to go?"
"Absolutely," I answer without delay. "Daphne Kettleman will be there."
"Why do you care about this chick so much?" He gives a resigned head
shake.
"Because she's Daphne Kettleman."
He scrubs his hands over his face. "Summer. I feel like I'm going to be
saying this a lot, but… I don't understand you."
Nate snickers.
"It's okay, babe. Not a lot of people do." I smack a kiss on his cheek. "All
right. Why don't you boys take off now? We're starting cleanup soon, so I need
to stay for that, but I'll meet you at the Elmhurst house once I'm done."
"I can stay and help," Fitz offers.
"You already helped enough." My tone is firm. "Take Brenna and the
Kappas, and go to Rex's. I'll be there in an hour, tops."
"I don't like the idea of leaving you alone here."
"Pussy whipped," Hollis coughs under his breath.
"I won't be alone," I tell Fitz. "Ben and Nora"—I make a face as I say her
name—"volunteered to clean up too."
"Be nice," Fitz chides.
"Hey, I'm nothing but nice to her. She's the one who acts like a bitch to me."
I send Rex a message that the party is still a go, then slide my phone in my
pocket. "I'll text you when I'm on my way."
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, BEN AND I HAVE STACKED THE LAST OF THE
chairs, boxed up all the hangers, and de-cluttered as best as we could. Someone
from the university is supposed to collect all this stuff in the morning and return
it to the Fashion department.
I gesture to the raised runway in the center of the massive room. "They don't
expect us to take that apart, do they?"
"No, I think the crew's doing it when they come to pick up all the chairs and
stuff."
"Okay. Good." I check the time on my phone. "You coming to the party?"
He rubs his fingers over his bushy eyebrows. "I don't know… A football
party, huh?"
"You got something against football?" I tease.
"No, but I've received enough wedgies from football players that it's left me
a bit scarred." His mouth widens in a cheeky smile. "I've also received enough
BJs from football players to make up for that."
I gasp. "Ben, you bad boy! One, I didn't know you were gay. And, two, we
have something in common—we both like athletes!"
"We had other things in common before," he answers dryly. "We're both
fashion majors? We both love Chanel and Versace?"
"True. So are you coming to the party or not?"
"Sure, what the hell. Do you need a ride?"
"Thanks, but I drove here too." I'm about to slide my hand in my purse to
fish out my keys, when I realize I'm not wearing my purse. I'd left it on the floor
of the dressing area when Ben and I were folding up all the curtains. Nora had
been helping at one point too, but I don't know where she ran off to. She
probably took off to avoid having to spend time with me.
"I'll see you at Rex's," I tell Ben.
"Sexy Rexy," he murmurs.
"Oh God, please call him that to his face so I can see his reaction."
He snickers. "If I think it'll get me a BJ and not a wedgie, I will," he
promises.
Ben leaves, and I hop onto the runway and walk toward the backstage area,
where I quickly grab my purse. Before I can leave, I hear a female giggle.
I freeze, my gaze moving toward the corridor that leads to the Arbor House
management offices. It also features a closet-sized bathroom that I used earlier
tonight.
Another giggle echoes from the corridor. I'm pretty sure it's Nora, and my
eyes narrow at the shadowy doorway. Who the heck is she with?
In a heartbeat, it dawns on me. Laurie? I suddenly realize I never saw him
leave tonight, either. He just sort of disappeared from the party, same way Nora
disappeared in the middle of cleanup.
I follow the giggles to the corridor and slant my head. Sure enough, a male
voice. It's coming from the bathroom, and it's almost certainly Laurie. Then
Nora's muffled voice, followed by Laurie again, as he says something that
makes her laugh again.
Good for her, I guess. She's had a crush on the creep since the first day of
classes. Now she gets to live the creepy dream.
I'm about to walk away when I hear her cry out.
It's not a scream of terror but an exclamation of surprise, as if he startled her.
But it's enough to make me walk toward the bathroom to check if she's all right.
I remember the look of betrayal on Laurie's face when I rejected his advances in
his office. Granted, he released me the instant I said no. But he was also stonecold sober that day, and on university property.
Tonight I saw him drink at least three glasses of red wine. Plus, he was
already in a snit because I thwarted his evil agenda. I wouldn't feel right if I left
without making sure Nora is—
"Stop it."
Okay, I heard that as clear as day.
I reach the door just as the sounds of a scuffle echo behind it. A thud, as if
someone bumped into something. A soft clatter, as if an item fell off the counter
and onto the tiled floor. The soap dish, maybe.
Nora's voice is firm. "Stop it. I said no."
And then I hear Laurie's smarmy voice mutter, "Cocktease."
There's another crash. Nora cries out again, and I almost keel over with
relief when I turn the knob and find the door isn't locked. Thank God.
I throw it open and shout, "Let her go!