Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“Just stop looking at him like that,” I finish lamely.
“Screw you, Sof,” Stil fires back. “I was just glad to see Trevor again and I—”
“Again?” I interrupt. “I didn’t realize you two had actually met.”
Now that I think of it, her greeting was awfully familiar for someone who’s only seen pictures and videos. Stil starts stuttering, and I smell a rat with black and pink hair.
“Um, we…well, there was that time…we…” She looks at Trevor as if waiting for him to help, but he just grins, apparently enjoying my friend’s discomfort as much as I am.
All my processes have been delayed today because of the craziness with Kyle, but I’m starting to catch up. Why didn’t I realize this before? Only one other person knows my schedule, and she’s standing right in front of me.
“It was you! You told him about my barre class.” I put my hands on my hips, my clutch in one fist. “I should have known.”
Stil looks like she’s cooking up some lie, but she abandons that and just goes with the truth.
“Yeah, it was me.” She slides a look up and down Trevor’s suit-clad body. “You can thank me later.”
“I warned you about those looks.” I poke her shoulder and push her out of my way. “Back to work, peasant. We’re going to lunch.”
“Well, all right, your majesty.” Stil follows us out past Gil and to the elevator. “And will you be back?”
“No, she won’t.” Trevor grins down at me, a hand at my back, ushering me into the elevator. “She’s gone for the day.”
He challenges me with a look, like maybe he’s expecting me to protest, but I don’t. I can’t. I need to get out of here.
“You heard the man,” I say to Stil as the doors close. “I’m gone for the day.”
The luncheon is at Park Lane Hotel off Central Park. Traffic is insane, so we opt to walk the last few blocks. It’s a brisk day, even though we’re only mid-October. I should have grabbed at least a jacket, and a gust of wind makes me shiver. Trevor pulls me under his arm, shielding me from the wind.
“Cold?” He smiles at me, his warm dark eyes chasing away the shivers.
“Just a little chilly, I guess.”
I love being this close to him, love his consideration even more than the warmth his body provides. We’re almost at the door when someone calls my name.
“Sofie!”
I turn my head to see a man quickly approaching us. A boy, really. He’s maybe only nineteen or so. The wind ruffles his brown hair, and his blue eyes are lit and eager and fixed on me. I’m not sure he even notices the mountain of muscle going stiffer and stiller and more alert the closer he gets to us.
“Hi, Sofie.” His cheeks go pink, but he looks me straight in the eye. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
“It’s me.” I smile, relaxing because I’ve done this about a million times since I started modeling. Since I was his age. “How are you?”
“I’m…I’m great!” he gushes. “I’m such a huge fan. I have all your Sports Illustrated bathing suit issues. And, of course, the Playboy spread.”
His cheeks go even pinker when he mentions Playboy. He finally looks at Trevor, maybe realizing it’s not the most appropriate time to mention seeing me nude.
“Um, yeah. Like I said, I’m a big fan.” He glances between Trevor’s unsmiling face and mine. “I don’t want to bother you.”
“But you already have,” Trevor says, eyes flinty.
“Trevor, it’s okay.” I squeeze his hand. “What do you need…what was your name?”
“Barry.” His grin is back, wider now. “The name’s Barry. If you could just sign something for me.”
I’m assuming he’s not just carrying pictures of me around randomly, so I’m not sure what he wants me to sign. I hope it’s not anything weird, or Trevor might snap him in the middle of the street.
From his backpack, Barry pulls out a pen and a subway map, offering them to me. I sketch a quick autograph and hand it back to him.
“Wait till I show the guys on the team.” He carefully slips the subway map into his bag. “I just knew it had to be Photoshopped. Like I didn’t think you could look like this in real life, but you do. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
It’s amazing how time changes your perspective. There was a time when those words would have meant the world to me, and now compliments about my looks are like single drops of rain in a deluge. They have no impact. Make no difference. Indistinct from all the other words people say.
“Thank you, Barry.” I grab Trevor’s hand. “We need to go. Nice meeting you.”
Trevor doesn’t wait for him to respond, but just starts walking toward the hotel.
“Does that happen a lot?” he asks, taking my hand in his.