Model Behavior, page 22
“I just––”
“Need some convincing. I get it. Have you heard from Ian at all since this morning?”
I shake my head, ignoring the whiplash I feel that he just brought up my ex after asking me out on a date.
With a frown, he says, “I think we should tell Sonny about Ian so he can keep an eye on you when you’re at work.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“And I think it is,” he answers, looking more determined than ever.
“Even if he shows up here, what’s the worst he can do, River?” I ask. “Cause a scene? Been there, done that. The bouncers will throw him out, and the night will go on like it never happened.”
Inching forward, he brushes his fingertips against my hip, then drops his hand back to his side. “I don’t trust the guy. I just want to make sure you’re okay, but I’m not trying to control you, all right?”
The sincerity in his tone melts a bit of my reservations.
Licking my lips, I whisper, “Thank you. For looking out for me. And for being patient. I’m sorry about this morning. After Gibson’s little words of wisdom, I’ve been…scared? Confused? Honestly, I don’t even know anymore, but I hate how we left things.”
“I don’t blame you.” He reaches up and cups my cheek as if I’m a fragile doll, but I don’t shy away from his touch. Instead, I lean into it, savoring the warmth and slight scratch from his calloused palm as if my life depends on it. Even though I know it isn’t the smart thing to do. Even though I know my brother could see us, and it would ruin everything. Even when I know River has the power to ruin me.
When I’m with him, all of that bullshit seems to fade away.
And it’s going to bite us in the ass one day.
“He gave us both a lot to think about, Reese. I know that things are a little…precarious?”
A breath of laughter escapes me. “You could call it that.”
“But I can’t stop thinking about you.” He drops his hand to his side as if it pains him to have so much distance between us. The same way it pains me. “Let me take you out on a real date. I promise we won’t be seen, and your brother will never know about it, but I want you to give us a real shot before you make any decisions. Do you think you can do that?”
A lump of emotions gets lodged in my throat as I take in his sincerity. Then I nod.
“Good girl.” He steps around me and walks over to my brother’s booth in the back of the bar while I’m left checking out his butt in his jeans as his praise runs through my mind over and over again.
I’m in trouble.
With a wistful sigh, I shake myself out of the lust-induced haze that seems to cripple me anytime River’s around and get back to work when a very uncomfortable Dove catches my attention. Her face is pale, and she seems frozen in place as a large figure towers over her and whispers something in her ear.
Cautious, I close the distance between us. She doesn’t even look at me. She’s too shaken.
“Hey, Dove!” I greet her, my tone extra chipper. “Everything okay here?”
She gulps, then glances up at the mystery man who can’t be more than five years older than me and screams, pretty boy with a dark past.
“No problem,” the stranger answers for her. “Right, Dove?” He emphasizes her name. “I was just leaving.”
He steps around her but uses his menacing frame to make her feel small and insignificant. Just like how Ian used to do to me. My upper lip curls in disgust. I follow his every movement with my gaze, my muscles and lungs poised and ready for action if he doesn’t leave peacefully right now. It’s funny how much easier it is to stand up for someone else than it is myself. Thankfully, he heads out the exit without causing a scene but gifts Dove one more knowing look before he walks out the door.
I breathe out all the oxygen I’d been holding hostage, then turn to Dove. “You okay?”
She pauses and licks her lips, blinking slowly as if she’s just woken from a strange dream. “Uh, yes. Yes, I’m fine.”
“What was that about?”
“Nothing.”
“You sure?”
With a jerky nod, she wrings the rag that’s used to wipe down tables between her hands. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. What happened, Dove? Who was that?”
“I-I don’t know. He was looking for Fender.”
“And?”
“And I told him that I didn’t know where he was.”
“Okay? Is that it?” I ask carefully.
It isn’t exactly out of the ordinary for people to ask about where Fender is. He’s the face of a huge up-and-coming band. It doesn’t make sense that Dove would look like she’s seen a ghost if a simple question like that is what brought it on.
She shakes her head. “No. Then he started asking me how long I’d worked here and if I’d be interested in…”––she clears her throat––“in hooking up later.”
I grimace but stay silent.
“I lied and told him I had a boyfriend, thinking maybe that would get him to back off.”
“That’s a good idea, actually––”
“It didn’t work. So, I told him that Gibson was my boyfriend and that he’d be back any minute and wouldn’t appreciate him talking to me. I know it’s the furthest thing from the truth and that Gibson hates me, but it just popped into my head, and––”
“Seriously, Dove.” I grab her wrist to keep it from shaking. “I think that was a brilliant idea.”
Again, she shakes her head. “He knows him. Gibson. Supposedly, anyway.”
“Oh.”
She smiles tightly, but it looks forced. “Yeah. That’s not the weird part, though.”
“What do you mean?”
She hesitates as if replaying the conversation in her head before voicing aloud, “He said that if Gibson and I were a thing, then I must be having…relations with his friend Milo too.”
“Oh.” My lips purse. “Yeah…I heard they’re into sharing.”
“That’s a thing?”
With an awkward laugh, I shrug. “Supposedly. Is that why you’re spooked? With your history and all, I’d get it. That probably sounds terrible. For two guys to––”
“That wasn’t it,” she clarifies, stopping me from making a fool of myself as I attempt to explain the birds and the bees to a girl who’s still a sheltered virgin. “I mean, it sounded weird, but who am I to judge? No. He…” She hesitates and glances toward the bar where a very oblivious Gibson is mixing drinks. “H-he warned me about something.”
“Huh?” I ask, confused. This conversation doesn’t make any sense.
“He just said that if I was smart, I’d stay away from Gibbs. And Milo.”
“Why?” I press.
“Because their last girlfriend disappeared after they broke up, and it would be a shame if the same thing happened to me.”
“He said what?”
“I know,” she rushes out. “It sounds crazy, right?”
“Definitely crazy. I know Gibson, Dove. And I know Milo. Whatever bullshit that guy was spewing, it was exactly that. Bullshit.”
“You’re right. You’re right,” she repeats, though she still looks spooked. “It was just the way he said it, ya know? Like he knew something. But you’re right. He was probably just being a jerk.”
“I’m sure that’s exactly what he was being––”
“Do you know anyone named Em? Emma? Emily? Something like that?”
I search my memory, then shake my head. “Sorry. I don’t. But if it’ll make you feel better, you could always ask Gibbs.”
With a dry laugh, she rolls her eyes and tucks her hair behind her ear. “No, thank you. That would be…weird. He hates me, remember? But you’re right. It doesn’t matter. We aren’t even dating. He’s my coworker. I just made that up to get the guy to leave me alone. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
“You sure?” I ask.
She nods. “Yes. Definitely.”
“Okay. We still on for tomorrow night?”
“Yes. Definitely,” she repeats. “Let’s get back to work before we get yelled at again. And thanks for saving me.”
“Anytime.”
30
REESE
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath in the otherwise silent kitchen. “Why isn’t this working?” The acrid smell of burnt sugar stings my nostrils as I assess the damage.
“Need any help?” a deep voice offers from the hall.
I glance behind me, then glare at River. “From the house’s worst cook? I think not.”
He lifts his chin toward the burnt goo that was supposed to be a good distraction from him before I got lost on my head and ruined it.
“If you keep this up, you might steal the title from me, Floozy. What are you making?”
The pot hisses as I put it in the sink and fill it with tap water. “I’m trying to make caramel popcorn.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s a must for our girls’ night. The instructions online made it look easy.”
“Never trust the internet, Floozy. That was your first mistake.”
“Oh, so your mom isn’t spiraling from another big movie rejection?” I quip before pulling out the last clean pot from the cupboard.
“Nah. That one’s probably true.”
“You still haven’t talked to her?” I ask as I scoop some butter, sugar, and corn syrup into the pot before setting it on the stove. Then I crank up the heat to medium-high––just like the stupid video told me to––and start stirring.
“Nope. And I don’t plan to.” An innocent River peeks over my shoulder like a seasoned chef inspecting my third attempt at making the damn candy as if he has all the time in the world when a little bird told me the opposite.
My stirring stops and I look up at him as my frustration gets the best of me.
“Am I distracting you?” he rumbles, that same cocky smirk painted across his lips.
Stupid. Sexy. Arrogant asshole.
My head snaps back to the stove.
“Nope. So…” I give the mixture another half-assed stir and take a deep breath. “Where are you going tonight?”
“Nowhere.”
“Then why are you dressed like that?” I wave my hand toward him as if he’s an annoying fly that won’t leave me alone.
He looks down at his dark, fitted T-shirt and worn jeans that hang low on his hips. “Dressed like what?”
Annoyed, I drop the spoon in the pot and twist around to face him. “You’re wearing a shirt, which in River terms means you’re going out.”
Throwing his head back, he laughs. Hard. “Oh, so because I’m wearing clothes, that means I have plans?”
“You tell me.”
“Is somebody jealous?”
“What? No––”
A quiet knock at the front door cuts me off. I wipe my hands on the yellow hand towel hanging next to the sink, then take a step toward the entryway. “Dove’s here.”
His warm hand envelops my bicep and holds me in place. “Milo’s home. He’ll get it.”
My gaze drops down to his steely grip before I find the courage to look back up at him.
How can one man knock me on my ass so freaking quickly?
With a simple touch, a simple look, a simple smirk, I’m a goner.
“You never answered me yesterday,” he murmurs.
“About what?”
“About whether or not you’ll let me take you on a date.”
I lick my lips. He’s close. Too close. We shouldn’t be standing like this. Not when my brother’s still home. But the idea of putting some much-needed distance between us is crippling.
I peek back up at him. “Riv…”
“Let me take you out.”
“I don’t––”
“Crap,” a familiar soft voice mutters from the hall. “Sorry. I’ll just––”
Our heads snap toward the culprit in unison before I wiggle out of River’s grasp as if he has the plague.
Shit.
“Hey, Dove,” I squeak. My face feels like it’s on fire.
“Hi.” She waves awkwardly, pretending she didn’t just catch us in a precarious position before her button nose scrunches in distaste. “What’s that smell?”
I sniff.
“Dammit, River!” Rushing to the stove, I grab the hot pad and throttle the pot’s handle until my knuckles turn white.
Stupid TikTok and their stupid thirty-second recipes.
“I burnt the caramel again,” I announce with more venom than a damn rattlesnake.
“Caramel?” Striding over to the stove, Dove assesses the black sludge at the bottom of the pot. “That’s supposed to be caramel?”
“Well, it was,” I defend.
“And how ‘bout those over there?” She points to the two other pots in the sink.
River chuckles under his breath. “Told ya, Floozy. Have fun on your girls’ night.”
“And where are you going?” I ask––again––trying to keep my tone light and airy. But it comes out with an edge that screams jealousy no matter how much I try to hide it.
Because I am jealous.
Where is he going? And why won’t he tell me?
“I already told you,” River answers me. “Out.”
“You told Milo you have a date.” The truth slips out of me before I have a chance to stop it. I hate how vulnerable I sound, but I can’t help it. The idea of River going out with someone who isn’t me… It guts me.
“Where’s the bathroom?” Dove interrupts, desperate to give us an ounce of privacy. Clearly, I’m doing a bang-up job of hiding my feelings for my roommate. Lovely. At least Milo isn’t here to witness it.
I clear my throat. “The one on this floor is clogged, and they’re all waiting for someone else to fix it like a bunch of pansies. But if you go to the top of the stairs and turn left, it’ll be the first door on your right.”
“Left and then a right. Got it.”
“Yup.”
Her sock-clad feet turn her into a silent ninja as she rushes out of sight, leaving me alone with a guy I’m not too happy with.
“Did she take off her shoes?” River asks, his gaze still glued to the gorgeous waitress from the bar who happens to be turning into one of my good friends.
My stupid jealousy flares all over again as I give him my back and mutter, “Apparently.”
“That’s…nice of her?” he offers.
“I guess.”
Shoving the third pot of charred sugar into the sink, I turn the water on full blast and watch the clear liquid swirl into a dark, opaque sludge. Just like my jealousy.
“Hey,” River murmurs, crowding me against the sink. The warmth from his chest heats my back, though I refuse to lean into him. If I do, I’m afraid I’ll crumble.
“What do you want from me?” I whisper.
“I want you to say yes and go on a date with me.”
“Why would I do that? It seems you already have one.”
His hands skim along my hips, but he doesn’t touch me. And it’s his lack of touch that really does me in. Like I’m some forbidden treasure when he’s the one who always feels just out of reach.
He bows his head forward. “I’m sorry, Reese.”
“For going on a date tonight?” I choke out.
“No. For making you even question whether or not I’d betray you like that.”
I dig my teeth into my lower lip, my eyes glazing with unshed tears as the dirty water spills over the pot’s edge.
“I lied to Milo,” he reveals. “The only girl I want to go out with tonight has plans with a coworker. If she didn’t, I’d be bending her over backward to convince her to give me a chance.”
“I believe the correct term is bending over backward. Not bending her over backward,” I correct him, my voice nothing but a whisper. The vice around my chest slowly eases with each passing second as I register his statement.
He doesn’t have a date tonight.
He still wants me.
He still wants us.
River’s palm spreads across my lower belly before he pulls me into him, pressing my back to his front, where I feel a very thick, very hard erection.
I gasp and squeeze my eyes shut as my stomach tightens with anticipation.
“Pretty sure I had it right the first time,” he growls against the shell of my ear. “Say you’ll go out with me.”
“Riv…”
“Say it. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow or even next week. I can be patient,” he promises me. “But I need an answer.”
“Okay,” I breathe. “I’ll go out with you.”
“Good girl. Have fun on your girls’ night. And don’t make any more caramel.”
His touch disappears, followed by his heat at my back. The combination leaves me cold, turned on, and even more frustrated than before.
And he still didn’t tell me where he was going tonight.
Sneaky bastard.
“Where are you going?” I call out to his retreating form.
“Out.”
The front door closes behind him, but it doesn’t stop me from glaring at it.
Cocky asshole.
31
REESE
“Dude, what took you so long?” I ask as I grudgingly pop a non-caramel-covered kernel of popcorn into my mouth. I’d finally given up after River ditched me in the kitchen, but I didn’t expect Dove to spend twenty minutes in the bathroom.
Come on, girl.
Television remote in hand, I open up Netflix and start scrolling as Dove plops down next to me.
“Sorry,” she apologizes. “I got…distracted.”
I quirk my brow. “Candy Crush get ya again?”
“Uh, yup. That’s the one.” Her gaze darts toward the second floor before she snuggles further into the couch cushion.
“You okay over there?” I ask, taking in her flushed cheeks.
“Yup.”
“Did something happen in the bathroom? ‘Cause if you clogged the toilet or something, it’s not a big deal or anything.”
Her button nose scrunches. “Ew. No. Nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?”
