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Authors: L.A. Rose

Adrian Lessons (16 page)

BOOK: Adrian Lessons
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“That’s ridiculous,” I snap, and then notice how Eric and his boyfriend’s eyes are glued to Adrian’s chest. “Hey! Eyes off! He’s mine!”

“See my point?” Adrian chuckles.

“Come on.”

And I snatch his hand and drag him away after me.

~15~

ADRIAN

 

“Do you know what’s not manly? Modeling is not manly. And I have a duty to my new girlfriend to be manly. So my answer, for the millionth time, is no.”

“I thought she wasn’t your girlfriend,” says Arianna teasingly through the phone.

“She’s coming around.” I grin.

“Well, I bet she’ll come around even faster if you’re a famous model. Girls love famous models. Trust me.”

“Just because you’re a famous model doesn’t mean I have to follow in your footsteps. What if I’d rather be a plumber, like Dad?”

“Your father hasn’t had to plumb a thing in his life since he met me, and that’s because famous models make oodles of money, my love. If there’s another thing girls love, it’s oodles of money.”

“Thanks, Arianna.”

“I only speak the truth. And White Steel is looking for somebody to be the face of their new lineup for the second half of fall. I sent them your headshot and they want to get in touch.”

I stop halfway up the stairs. “I’ve never done headshots.”

“I took a few when you weren’t looking. You’d be surprised how professional they came out!”

I sigh. “I have other things to focus on right now.”

“No, you don’t.” Her voice is suddenly sharp. “That girl is lovely and I’m happy for you, but she’s not a career. You’ve been keeping your head down for far too long. You need to put yourself out there in the world. Expend some energy. Young people have plenty of energy and if they don’t use it up, it turns inward. Messes with them.”

“That’s some pseudo-psychologist bullshit if I ever heard it.”

“It’s some honest bullshit. You need to make a life for yourself.”

The elevator stops on Cleo’s floor and I make sure the bell is audible through the phone. “I have to go. I’m at Cleo’s.”

“Just think about it, okay?”

I hang up, pick up my bag of takeout, and walk down the hall to my high school dream girl’s room.

Cleo answers after two knocks on her door. She’s wearing a long white T-shirt that barely grazes the bottoms of her thighs, and she blushes when she sees me. The sight of her sets me on fire.

“Why is it that I’m never wearing pants when you show up?” she asks.

I lean against the door frame. “If you think I have a problem with that, you’re dead wrong.”

She giggles and opens the door wider, then leaves me to presumably go find pants. Damn. I set my plastic bag down on the counter and do my best to banish my conversation with Arianna from my mind.

It’s been a few days since our visit home, and we’ve been so busy that we haven’t seen each other much outside psych lab. I’ve been leaving a yellow rose by her door every morning, and they’re all collected in a vase on the table. I touch one blossom as she opens the bag.

“Chinese food!” she yelps. “Are you psychic? I was just craving this.”

The only thing I’m craving is her, and it’s the only thing I’ve
been
craving since we were interrupted in the woods. I never finished what I intended to do that night, which was give her the most mind-blowing orgasm of her life.

And judging by the flush in her cheeks as she looks at me, she still needs it.

I’ve got all night to give it to her.

“I ran into Marie earlier,” I say. “She said you were stressed about a test tomorrow and I thought you could use a de-stressing night. Chinese and a movie. How about it?”

She perks up. “Okay! We don’t have to be careful about volume because Marie’s spending the night with her parents.”

I don’t plan on being careful about volume.

“And maybe later we can finish what we started in the woods.” I let my gaze range over her body. She can barely suppress her smile. She tries to act cool and ends up tripping over a stool. It’s adorable.

“You pick the movie.” I open a couple white cartons, feeling my chest finally settle back into its normal rhythm.

“Come with me.” She lays a hand on my arm. “I’ve been wanting you to meet my special someone.”

My heart drops through the bottom of my chest. “Your who?”

“My husband.” She takes me into the living room, where the TV displays a red screen. “Mr. Netflix. Mr. Netflix, meet my…”

Is she going to use the b word?

“…friend.”

I jerk my chin in the TV’s direction. “I should warn you, I’m a competitive guy. If I have to punch out a television, so be it.”

She waves a threatening finger at me. “If you assault my TV slash husband, I will call the cops.”

I settle onto the couch, taking a big bite of lo mein. “So what movie are we watching on your husband?”


Zoolander.
People keep yelling at me because I haven’t seen it.”

I choke on a noodle.

“What? You don’t like Ben Stiller?”

“Nah,” I gasp. “
Zoolander
’s perfect.”

She hits play and we settle down on the couch together. She starts out a good five inches away, but by the time Stiller’s getting brainwashed, her forearm is brushing mine. I have the strongest urge to slide my arm around her shoulders, but something about that move comes off as a little too high school.

“Arianna’s been trying to get me to do some male modeling,” I say offhandedly.

“Hey, that’s a great idea!”

If I wasn’t finished with the Chinese food, I’d definitely choke on another noodle. “How about…hell no.”

“Why not? You’re
really, really ridiculously good looking
,” she quotes, and we both laugh.

“Staring at a camera all day isn’t really my thing. And it’s White Steel, so I’d have to be standing up straight and wearing expensive suits all day—”

“White Steel?” Cleo blinks and turns to face me. “Adrian, they’re an incredibly famous clothing line.”

“Well, they can go on being incredibly famous without me.”

She quiets for a little while, and I think that’s the end of it. Then she says, “Can I ask you something?”

“Be my guest.”

“Actually, you’re
my
guest,” she notes. “Anyway. I wanted to ask—what are you planning on doing after you graduate?”

I rest my hand on her thigh and grin darkly. “You.”

She squints at me as she tries to figure out whether or not I’m kidding, whether or not I plan on trying for a long-term relationship. I do, and I try to say this with my eyes, but she shakes her head. “No dodging the question. I mean for a job. Obviously you’re wealthy enough that you wouldn’t have to work if you didn’t want to, but you have to do something. You’d be bored.”

I shrug and return my attention to the TV. “I plan on traveling a lot. Exploring the world.”

“Running away, in other words.”

I stiffen.

“I don’t know what you’re running away from,” she says cautiously. “And you don’t have to tell me. But when Arianna took me shopping to replace my shirt, we had a conversation.”

“She’s crazy, Cleo. You saw that.”

She flips her hair in a perfect imitation of Arianna and mimics, “
There are struggles my son has faced for a long time. Internal ones. He’s never committed to anything before, never settled—never had a girlfriend, never lived in one place for long, transferred schools several times. I think he’s looking for something, but more than that, I think he’s afraid to settle down. And I’m not convinced he’ll ever be able to put down roots.”

I stare at her. “There’s no way you memorized every word of that.”

“I kept going over it in my head and it kind of implanted itself.”

“I see.” I’m going to have a long chat with Arianna.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she says. “Do one shoot with White Steel…and I’ll let you take me out to dinner this weekend. Not on top of a Ferris wheel. In a restaurant. The Frontier, this Friday at seven.”

I trace my fingers over the back of her neck, feeling her skin turn to gooseflesh under my touch. “Another collateral date. When will I get to take you out just because you like me?”

“When I decide that I like you,” she says with some attempt at aloofness, but her slight gasp as I run my fingers over her collarbone gives her away. “So? Yes or no?”

“To tell you the truth, I’d jump off a building to get you to go on another date with me.” I decide I don’t care about feeling like a high schooler and slide my arm over her shoulders. She nestles into the crook between my shoulder and my elbow. A strange feeling washes over me.

Contentment.

“What is it?” she asks, noticing my silence.

“Nothing. This is…nice.”

“What? Cuddling?” she laughs.

I kiss the top of her head. “It’s new to me.”

“You’re telling me that you’ve slept with half the girls on the planet, and you’ve never cuddled before.”

“Let me tell you something, Cleo. If you want to sleep with half the girls on the planet and you don’t want a relationship, you need to outline some rules.” I tick them off on my fingers. “No cuddling. No sex in my bed. No dates. No emotional stuff.”

“I think I broke a few of your rules.”

“The rules never applied to you,” I say softly.

We fall into a gentle, comfortable silence as the movie plays on.

A long time later, I shift and yawn as a repeating sound embeds itself in my consciousness. It’s the DVD menu tune. The movie’s over, and the clock on the TV blinks 4:02 a.m. Cleo is settled deep into my side, her head resting on my shoulder and her hand lightly gripping my shirt. That heavy, warm feeling washes over me again.

I always thought the best feeling in the world was an orgasm.

But this…

This is almost…better.

Gently, I scoop her up. Her head lolls against my chest, and her arm dangles down toward the couch. I switch off the TV and head for her bedroom, nudging the door open with my foot and laying her down on her bed. Her sleep-breathing is even and soft.

I pull the blanket up to her chest and I’m turning away when I hear her voice.

“Adrian…”

I glance around, but she’s still sleeping, a small smile on her lips.

“Goodnight, Cleo,” I whisper, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead before slipping out and closing the door quietly behind me.

It’s time to schedule a call with White Steel.

 

~16~

CLEO

 


You
have a date? You? As in, my baby sister? Has a date with a boy? He is a boy, right? Not a robot or a shaved orangutan or—”

“I have had a boyfriend before, Therese. I know what boys look like,” I cut off my sister’s tangent, turning down the volume on my phone.

“You had a gay boyfriend, sweetie. That doesn’t count.”

I spit my orange juice halfway across the kitchen. It splatters over a worn copy of
Scottish Ecstasy
, which I hastily wipe off and stick in the open window to dry off. Below, I hear a little girl on the sidewalk say, “Look, Mommy, there’s a shirtless man in a kilt in that window.”

“You
knew
he was gay?” I scream into the phone.

“Cleo, everyone knew he was gay. He wore suspenders and a rainbow tie every day to work.”

I bang my head against the fridge. “I just thought he had a charmingly unique fashion sense.”

“Mommy, what’s gay?” the kid’s voice floats up again. I smush my face against the screen and yell down,

“There’s nothing wrong with being gay unless it turns out it applies to your straight boyfriend! So when you get your first boyfriend, make sure he likes boobs first. And, uh, stay in school,” I add, noticing the mom’s evil eye.

“College students,” she growls before storming off.

“Who are you yelling at?” Therese asks.

“Adolf Hitler.”

“Isn’t he dead?”

“I’m a ghost whisperer! Ugh, Therese, just congratulate me and then we can gossip about my date’s arm muscles or whatever it is normal sisters do.”

“I’ll reach my own conclusions about his arm muscles,” she trills. “I’m coming with you on this date. As a normal sister, I need to make sure your new boyfriend doesn’t like big fat cocks.”

“He’s not my boyfriend! And you’re not coming!” I resist the urge to stomp my foot and call her a meanie.

“It’ll be a double date. You need to meet my new boy, and I need to meet yours. It’s perfect timing. Gimme the deets.”

I do some aggrieved mumbling, but I know there’s no detaching Therese from an idea once she’s sunk her claws in. “Fine. The Frontier, this Friday at seven. And I’m only saying yes because I need to make sure
your
new boy is strong enough to withstand you.”

“Oh, he’s plenty strong. You want to talk arm muscles…” Therese sighs. “He’s got biceps you could sail to war on.”

“That’s a weird analogy.”

“But totally fitting. You’ll see. We’ll meet at the café. I’ll be the one in the red dress with the hottest boy you’ve ever seen on my arm.”

The hottest boy I’ve ever seen is the Sex King. “I know what you look like, Therese.”

“You didn’t realize your boyfriend of three years was gay. Your eyes can’t be trusted.” And she hangs up.

I groan deeply and turn to the fridge. “What about you, fridge? Have any siblings who’re determined to screw up your love life when you just want to quietly keep food cold? The microwave, maybe?”

The fridge does not comment, but I notice a note taped to its front.
Open me
. I obey, and sitting on the top shelf is a neat covered dish: blueberries, raspberries, a French croissant, and a mushroom omelet. A Post-it on the plastic wrap says,
Sorry I had to run. Had class. Consider this my apology. Adrian

That boy really knows how to get a girl on the ropes.

“Since when do you make breakfast beyond cereal?” a pajama-wearing Marie asks as she stumbles out of her bedroom, taking in the sight of me stuffing myself on the kitchen table.

“I didn’t.” I wave the Post-it, and Marie smirks.

BOOK: Adrian Lessons
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