by A. P. Moraez
“What?”
“All that muscle. Normally, models are waaay leaner than that. Hollywood doesn’t like twigs for their action movies, though.”
“Oh.” Now that Nick mentioned it, Ash really checked out the room and realized that it was true. All the other younger models followed the same pattern when it came to body type: lean, long legs and arms, exquisite face, tall. None of them had the brawl Logan was rocking.
“Yeah,” Nick continued, “Logan’s gonna stand out like a sore thumb tonight.” He shrugged. “I still can’t believe sometimes… what he has become. Of course it is normal for models to jump to acting after their golden years are done and over with. But it’s rare that one of us achieves the level of success that one has.” He sighed. “Too bad he had to bulk up like that for it,” he finished with a half-laugh. “I bet the guys are struggling to adjust all his outfits for tonight. I told them he was muscular now, but I don’t think they were expecting that level of bulk.”
“I like him big,” Ash said, only realizing what his stupid mouth had let out after it was already too late.
Nick barked out a surprised laugh. “I bet you do!”
“Fuck off.”
“What’s going on out here, uh?” Logan appeared out of nowhere, hand immediately clamped behind Ash’s neck, squeezing him gently. “Best friends already?”
“You betcha,” Nick said, slightly flustered. Ash couldn’t believe they’d been making innuendo about him and Logan’s private life.
“Anyway,” Nick exhaled as he rose from his seat. “I gotta rush downstairs to check the room. It should be done by now.” To Ash, he said, “Don’t forget to accompany Maria to your seat later, okay? It’s easy to get lost in this place.”
“Sure,” Ash replied with a smile as the man whirled around and disappeared through the bodies in various states of undress all around them.
“So,” Logan started, turning Ash around in his arms; arms that were soon wrapped around Ash’s waist and squashing them against each other, “you guys seemed to be getting along great, from where I was watching.”
“So you were watching use?”
Logan huffed and rolled his eyes. “’Course I was. Think I was gonna leave my man with a guy and not keep any tabs?”
Ash laughed. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossibly in love with you,” was all Logan said before he leaned down and pressed their lips together. It was weird kissing him without the beard, but hot too, the way he could just lick all over and Logan could take with abandon without fear of beard burns.
“Ugh,” a groan sounded from next to them. They broke the kiss to Alec standing right there next to them, arms folded over his naked chest. “You guys are just gross.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Logan said, chuckling, “and you’re starting to turn green. In fact, it’s way past starting point. You should go put on some makeup all over or the clients will think you’re trying to sell Hulk costumes.”
“Funny,” Alec responded, rolling his eyes, as he threw Logan the bird. He turned his attention to Ash and said, “Anyway, I know snogging with that one there all day might be fun and all, but now that I’m all done with makeup and shit for the runway, I thought we might do a tour around the place while it’s not fully taken over by the media and clients and all that jazz. What do you think?”
“Like, just the two of us?”
“Yeah,” Alec confirmed, now seeming a bit nervous, fidgety. “Guess I’d just like to know the guy that snatched this bastard a bit better,” he explained, throwing Logan a shit-eating grin.
Ash was flattered. Nobody ever wanted to know him better. He looked up at Logan, who had a silly little smile on. “Go on,” he encouraged, patting Ash’s butt, “I have to go through at least one more hour of trying on clothes and doing adjustments, anyway. You don’t need to be here for that.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” Logan confirmed, then pecked him on the lips. “Just bring Duke or Ian with you guys, alright? Give me a bit of peace of mind.”
“Yeah, of course.” Ash took his phone in hand, from his pants pocket, and shot a quick message to Duke, asking him if he could meet him outside. “Done.”
“Alright!” Alec cried, “Let’s go then, before Logan changes his mind and starts fucking you in front of everybody.”
IT WAS ABOUT to start, and Ash couldn’t for the love of Christ calm his heartbeat down a little. He’d snagged a front-row seat, Duke and Ian at both his sides — one of Logan’s requests.
Nick’s team had done a splendid job with the decoration and for the fashion event. Sala delle Cariatidi had already been breathtaking earlier in the day when Ash had strolled around with Alec chatting and checking out all the works of art. The statues had gotten him shivering at some point, with their immortality that exhaled history and stability. The whole room emanated a certain energy that got you feeling empowered and small at the same time. The place remounted to a time down in History that Ash couldn’t even fully envisage properly. It’d been fully illuminated then, however, so the vibe had been completely different than how it was now.
The lights had already been purposely dimmed when Ash’d gotten down here some twenty minutes ago, the only sound coming from the people filling the room minute by minute.
All sorts of people Ash could never believe he’d be sitting so close to, in a place like this, arrived and got settled all around him. There were several reporters — or so he thought — with professional-looking cameras settling in the second or third row of benches, behind him, but also super well-dressed young women and older ladies, who smelled both of old money and new money, taking their places. There were men too. All gorgeous and dressed like a dream, some checking their phones, probably sharing what they were doing on social media. One of them, an older gentleman, looking to be on his mid-forties or something, caught Ash’s eye as he was leaning down to sit. Ash smiled at him, more to be polite than anything else, and a flash of recognition crossed the man’s light-green eyes. He stopped mid-movement and righted himself.
“Hey,” he said as a grin formed on his ruggedly handsome face, “you’re Ash Reid, aren’t you?”
At the mention of Ash’s name, Duke and Ian’s hackles rose. They turned around to stare at the gentleman. Ash side-eyed them, trying to say with his eyes that they didn’t need to worry. The guy seemed harmless enough.
Ash rose to his feet and turned to the guy, hand stretched in greeting. “Yeah, that’s me.”
They shook hands. He had nice hands, soft and warm. A nice handshake, too. Firm, but not like he was trying to prove or compensate for something. Ash hated people that felt the urge to freaking destroy your hand as if that’d prove they were men enough. “It’s so nice to meet you,” the man said, he had a strong Italian accent, but nothing that made it impossible to understand his English. “I’m Emmanuel, by the way. My daughter is studying at the US and she just can’t shut up about you on our Skype calls.”
“Oh, really?” Ash asked, heartwarming. “What’s she studying?”
“Fashion,” the man said, proud. “Runs in the family, I guess.”
Ash laughed.
Eyes filled with hope, the guy asked, “Do you think we could take a selfie? And then maybe you could sign something for her?” He pulled a pen and a notebook from his suit’s front pocket. “It would make Isadora’s day.”
“Of course!”
Ash jumped the bench and happily sneaked his arm around the man’s shoulder for their selfie. He smelled good; a spicy cologne Ash had never smelt before. When that was done he took the expensive-looking pen Emmanuel passed to him with the notebook. “It’s Isadora, right?”
“That’s right.”
With the utmost care, Ash wrote, To beautiful Isadora, with love, Ash Reid, then signed it. “There you go.”
“Thank you so much! She’s gonna freak out when she sees this.”
“No problem.”
Ash sat back between Ian and Duke, who were s
till eying the man as if he were a disease.
“Stop, you two,” Ash admonished. “Not everybody we meet is gonna be a psychopath who wants to kill me,” he whispered.
“You can never be too careful,” Duke countered.
“He’s right, Ash,” Ian complemented. “The only reason we let him get near you is that security for this kind of events alone is pretty tight. Out there on the street, though, we’d never let someone just get near you like that without checking them first.”
“I know,” Ash said, trying to soothe them both. They were just doing their jobs, after all. Plus, they’d grown close as the weeks flew by. They really cared about him, that he knew. “Now let’s not make a fuss. It’s about to start, isn’t it?”
From one end to the other of the immense room, Nick’s team had arranged benches that formed two parallel lines, leaving more or less fifteen feet between the front benches on each line to be the runway for the models. They’d supposedly come directly from another backstage room which’s door was covered by a panel printed with Nick’s company’s logo, giving the impression that the models were hiding behind it. Now everywhere Ash looked, there were people filling up the three long-ass rows of benches on each side of the runway. There were also a few photographers sitting on the floor, cameras in hand, probably because that’d be the best angle to capture the models as they did the famous turn to go back and change outfits. Nick’s team had covered all benches with a soft fabric which layered the colors of his brand: gold and black. As the lights dimmed even more and the whole room started vibrating with a soft melody, Ash’s blood started pumping faster.
Alec had explained to him that when the music started to pump and the volume rose, that’s when the thing would officially start. That’s when he’d get to see Logan at work for the first time.
He’d never cared to research photos or videos of him. Too traumatized and hurt, thinking those things that’d torn them apart in their youth were all real, he’d steered clear of anything that could give him even a glimpse of Logan. And the last few months had been just too hectic for that. One more thing that he made a mental note about setting straight. It was just ridiculous that he’d never seen pics and videos of him in his prime as a model yet; that he hadn’t even seen one of his blockbusters.
Someone controlling the lights started rotating little dots of gold through the room. They illuminated, subtly, gently, everything they touched, always circling. The effect they had when passing around the benches, touching the also gold fabric under all the black, added sophistication and a touch of mystery that got Ash’s stomach tightening even more with anticipation and anxiety. He just wanted it to start already.
There was a sound of a knife brushing against metal and a gentle voice filled the air. A girl’s voice. Ash didn’t know the artist, but the strong, albeit non-aggressive beat that accompanied her soft voice, seemed to imitate the cadence of his heartbeat.
And then came the first model. Gorgeous, as to be expected. This was a show to display Nick’s collection for summer/spring, so despite the winter cold, the guys were all wearing light clothing. As more and more models pumped out from behind the panel, Ash started to get a feel for Nick’s style of designing. He’d seen a bit of the clothes coming and going from backstage earlier, but not enough to get a feel for it. They were all light and flowing. Lots of draping and room for breathing. Lots of skin showing.
Five or so models filled the runway at a time and Ash couldn’t help but admire, with a touch of envy, the assuredness with which they took to the runway. They all kept a straight face, but not like they couldn’t help but be serious. More of a vibe like they couldn’t be bothered by anyone around them to even flinch. Like… like they knew they were a superior breed or something. It was regal, as much as it was a bit unsettling, and it turned him on like hell.
Nothing prepared him — and, apparently, everyone else in the room, judging by the gasps that filled it — when the beat finally dropped with a dramatic pause, the lights all went out for a second and then, when they came back on, Logan was there, shirtless, wearing just a pair of stylish shorts and sandals, in all his muscle god grace, face grave, like an untouchable being. Ash literally stopped breathing — and he got to touch and lick and look his fill of that body every day, whenever he wanted. The other people must be having a heart attack.
And then, after a couple seconds of dramatic pause, the song came back on louder, from exactly the point it had been cut off, and Logan moved and, as he moved, Ash’s breath came back to him in a rush.
Of course he’d seen the easy grace of Logan’s walk before. Hell, he’d lost count of how many times he’d found himself trapped like a dear in the headlights under Logan’s gaze as the man stalked toward him with that feline-like grace he had in his steps. But this was different. The times Logan had stalked toward him, he’d usually been wearing an expression of either anger or want. Ash chuckled to himself. Or both. It was different seeing him like this, wearing his supermodel persona; cold and indifferent, like he was on display for inferior beings who got to see, but not touch. Who could only dream of being anything like him. Like he could scrub the floor with everybody else in the room. That thought contrasted with the reality of their lives as a couple and the knowledge that he got to touch and use Logan as much as he liked, whenever he liked and as long as he pleased, and it was getting his dick hard as nothing else.
And Nick had been right. As the songs changed and Logan returned with a new outfit each time, it was clear he’d left the modeling life. He stuck out as a sore thumb, a muscled giant in the middle of lean, weaker boys and men.
There was a moment when, when Ash had been least expecting it, Logan broke character and smiled and winked right at him after his turn, on the way back through the runway. He’d been wearing some kind of silky black poncho, a pair of black sandals, the pinecone necklace Ash’d given him, and nothing else, and he took the moment to acknowledge Ash for the first time, in the middle of all those people.
He found himself smiling and winking back at him, not caring if anyone saw or captured the moment. He was proud to be Logan’s partner and beyond excited and turned on by his display of professionalism and skill. Damn anyone who even tried to take those feelings away from him.
Ash could barely believe it when Alec, the last one in a line, disappeared behind the panel and nobody else came up on the runway, indicating the whole event was over. Then all the twenty-plus models came right back, walked the runway in lines one more time, then formed a line near the panel, at the starting point, hand-in-hand. Logan was right in the middle of them, shirtless, as his last outfit had been nothing but another pair of shorts and sandals. The golden dots of light disappeared and the room was inundated by brighter, albeit softer light. Logan was beaming at his colleagues and at the crowd and they, in unison, bowed, then stood and started hugging each other.
Nick came from behind the panel, hugged each one of them, then bowed to the crowd who’d erupted in applause.
Ash stood, applauding too. Even Duke and Ian were applauding and cheering, clearly beyond themselves.
When Ash looked back at the gorgeous bunch of men, Logan was staring right back at him, all teeth and glistening sapphires. Then he moved and, before Ash knew it, he was in Logan’s arms, their mouths joined, and the whole place exploded in cheers and catcalls.
IT WAS JUST a little past seven o’clock in the evening and the backstage area was pure chaos. The excited voices of all the models and crew mixed with the clink of champagne glasses as everyone celebrated the launch night.
Ash was sipping on another bottled water, abstaining from mingling, alone in his corner, when Logan apparently finished the conversation he’d been having with Nick and came back to him. He was still glowing, like he’d been a few minutes ago when the crowd was cheering and applauding; when he’d caught Ash totally by surprise and planted that kiss on him. Just thinking about it had him quivering on his boots.
“Shall we go have dinner
?” Logan asked, stopping in front of him and taking Ash’s hands in his. He’d changed into a gray three-piece suit and a heavy woolen coat, all in black. Winter in Milan wasn’t even close to winter in Hoofslope, but it was no laughing matter, either. “I’m starving.”
“Yeah, me too.” Ash rose from his chair and stretched his hand to grab his phone, which he’d left resting over Logan’s station table.
“Great. I’ll just text Duke to let him know that we’re coming down.”
“Actually, do you think we have time to check out that church across the street?”
“Duomo di Milano?” Logan asked, letting that sexy Italian accent come out. God, he’d heard bits and pieces of the man talking in Italian to the occasional crew member and fellow model all day, and it got him hot under his skin like nothing else. He thought there was no way Logan could turn even sexier. That was until this morning when he found out Logan spoke the local language fluently. It was a miracle that his pants were still clean.
Ash swallowed the lusty thoughts down and nodded. “Yeah. It won’t be long or anything.” They’d never discussed religion and faith before; not really. As far as Ash knew, Logan wasn’t religious. He’d never seen him praying or anything like that. Ash wasn’t that religious himself, but he had his beliefs, and something just seemed wrong about coming to Italy and being lucky enough to be stuck a whole day next to one of the bigger and most gorgeous churches in Europe and not sneaking in even for a minute for a quick meditation and prayer. “I know you’re not big on religion. I could go in only with Duke and maybe Ian if you’re not up to it,” he finished with a little shrug. He couldn’t meet Logan’s eyes, for some reason, so he waited for a response admiring his brand-new boots.
Logan’s warm hand cupped Ash’s cheek and lifted gently until their eyes met. He was looking down at him with a weird expression, a mixture of amusement and sadness.
“Of course I’ll go with you,” Logan finally said, voice low, after a few seconds of intense gazing into Ash’s eyes. “I didn’t know you were religious.”
