Page 55 of Handsome Devil
We’d often disagreed on that point.
Anyway, even if he wasn’t too old to launch much of a modeling career, Dane Davenport was too bulky for fashion. He was built like a football player.
Granted, most women, in real life, would probably take a real-ass man like that over the models who actually graced the pages of magazines. But I couldn’t sell real-ass man. These days I needed waif-like androgyny, racial diversity, and young men with washboard abs wholookedlike football players in closeups, but in reality would get knocked on their ass by a solid backhand from a man like Dane Davenport.
And why was every single line of thought today just leading back to that man?
Fuck.
I sat back, closed my eyes, and inhaled slow and deep, trying to center myself and clear my mind of every trace of the man. Annoyingly, I caught his scent again. It was still there, beneath the fading fake rose garden scent of Suri’s air freshener.
Hmm. Broad shouldered football players…
I opened my eyes and sifted through the glossies on my desk. Where was Jared? He had that snotty, sexy, frat boy football player look. He didn’t have any photos like that in his portfolio, though. Maybe we needed to oil him up and smear his face with grease. And maybe get some shots in football pants, unlaced low… Showing a little pubic hair?
Or no pubic hair? I could ask him to shave…
I found the glossy of Jared. Nice level of body hair. Not too much.
No shaving.
I tossed the photo aside and wrote a message to Shana.I’ve got a hot new boy for you. Badass football player concept. Need it dark, gritty and oozing sex. This one’s gonna be a star.I sent the text with several starry eyed emojis.
Then the photo of Jared, spun sideways on the desk, caught my eye. At this angle…
Sonofabitch.
He kinda looked like Dane Davenport.
I picked up the photo. Squinted at it. Yeah, no. Not so much. Not at this angle. I turned it upside-down. Huh. Something about that cocky tilt of his chin. Actually… he looked like Dane Davenport back in high school.
I heard he’d played football when he was younger, back before I met him and he was already on the hockey team. Forgot about that.
Uck. I tossed the photo aside and placed another one on top of it.
We were still doing the football shoot, though.
Hopefully Dane would be long gone before then and never happen to see the photos, so he wouldn’t accuse me again of crushing on him in high school.
Such a dick.
What I had for him in high school was a hate-on, not a crush.
Did the slap in the face not make that clear?
Maybe not.
I mean… in a weird way, it really didn’t make it clear to me either.
After I’d slapped him that night and walked away, I was shaking with heat and adrenaline. My lips were burning from that kiss. Sadly, it was the most exciting moment of my pretty much nonexistent love life in high school.
Made me feel kinda shaky now, just thinking about it. My heart was beating too fast. Why were my palms sweaty? I rubbed them on my dress.
Shit, why was I thinking about it at all?
Was this a hormone thing?
Was I ovulating?
