The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy)

by Gretchen Galway

  He came, shaking, not a thought in his head. A moment later, muscles buckling, he sank down to rest on his forearms, buried his face in the crook of her neck, and breathed in her sweet skin.

  Long minutes stretched by. His heart finally came to a manageable speed. His vision cleared. He savored how right it felt, resting there between her legs, her pulse blending with his own. So right it couldn’t last.

  “I suppose you want to go back to the resort again,” he muttered into her shoulder. “Any minute now you’ll be telling me you were drunk and I’m an asshole… and you’d be right.”

  She captured his face between her hands and pushed his head up to look into her eyes. “You’re not getting out of here until morning, big guy,” she said huskily.

  Before he knew it, she’d flipped him onto his back and was attempting to tie his wrist to the bed with his T-shirt.

  “Would it ruin the moment,” he began, feeling his blood start to simmer again, “if I said you make one hell of a cute dominatrix?”

  “Easy, tiger.” She trailed a finger down his sternum. “I’m just making sure you don’t escape while I use the bathroom.”

  Grinning, he closed his eyes and sank back into the mattress.

  As if he’d try.

  * * *

  He watched her sleep. Her short, wild curls framed her face on the pillow. Carefully, he moved the hair off the left side of her face and studied the light shadow of freckles across her skin, the way her reddish eyelashes rested against her cheeks.

  They’d used four condoms, the latest in the shower a few hours ago. He hadn’t thought he was capable of that last one, but sure enough, feeling her wet body rub up and down his was enough to get him going again.

  And now it was morning, and he couldn’t stop looking at her.

  In his career working with children he’d known plenty of families that began unexpectedly. If Lucy was so eager to get married and have kids, would she be on the pill? Or was a thin layer of latex the only thing between them and parenthood?

  He couldn’t help but wonder what a kid of theirs might look like. A redheaded giant? A shrimpy brunette with a tragically hopeless dream of playing pro basketball?

  You’re losing it, dude. In the air above her body, so as not to wake her, he traced her shape with his hand. She had generous hips compared to the rest of her, but any baby of his would be so huge he didn’t want to think about what it would do to her body. Split her in half. Not to mention how it would make her hate him forever—if she didn’t kill him out of revenge first.

  He couldn’t give her what she wanted. In this alone, it seemed, she was willing—no, eager—to be reckless.

  He would never be reckless about marriage. Let alone children.

  He sighed and sank onto his back next to her, staring at the ceiling. A water spot stained the corner near the window.

  Relax. You weren’t the one she wanted to marry, anyway.

  The truth of that brought little comfort.

  * * *

  The sound of the shower turning off woke her up. After a drowsy delay, she bolted upright, clutching the sheet over her chest, and struggled to get her bearings.

  Shabby bedroom, sound of the ocean, splitting headache.

  The bathroom door opened and Miles stepped out with only a towel slung around his hips. His broad, muscled shoulders and upper arms were damp from the shower. Dark hair trailed down over his stomach, pointing south under the folds of the towel.

  “Morning,” he said, drawing her attention up to his face.

  Such nice eyes. Great laugh lines. And now that she knew what that mouth could do to her, she couldn’t stop staring. Sensual lips, but not serious. The type to smile between kisses. Hot, wet, tireless kisses.

  She sank back and flung her arm over her eyes, groaning.

  “Coffee?” he asked.

  Not moving her arm, she nodded.

  “The breakfast room should still be open.”

  The thought of food made her stomach growl. She peeked out and looked for a clock. “What time is it?”

  Still hovering near the bathroom door, Miles shrugged one massive shoulder. “Not quite ten.”

  “Oh, shit.” She started to jump out of bed but stopped when she remembered she was completely naked. “I promised Fawn I’d do a spiritual retreat thing with her this morning.”

  “Call and explain.”

  Giving up on modesty, Lucy slid down the tall, creaky bed to the floor and scrambled around on the floor, picking up pieces of her discarded clothes from the night before. “Explain what? That I spent all night having sex with somebody other than the guy she set me up with?”

  “Like she doesn’t know.” He bent over and found her panties under the bed, handed them to her. “You want me to go get you something to eat while you get dressed?”

  “What do you mean, ‘like she doesn’t know?’”

  “She was here last night. She knows.”

  “But she left.” Rubbing her eyes, Lucy remembered the look on Alex’s face when she stayed behind with Miles. “With Alex.”

  “Yup.” He came over and kissed her quickly on the cheek. “Take your time. Fawn will understand. I’ll get you some coffee and chocolate pancakes.”

  “Waffles.”

  He kissed her again, this time on the lips, and tried to linger but she pushed him away. “My teeth are furry.”

  He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I don’t mind,” he said, but smiled and released her. “Back as soon as I can.”

  In five minutes she was dressed in yesterday’s clothes and brushing her tongue with a washcloth. Her cheeks were chafed from the night before, her eyes bloodshot—making them even greener than usual—and it stung to wipe.

  She didn’t regret a moment. She’d been drunk, impulsive, shortsighted, and illogical, but for the rest of her life she’d have this night to remember. Dan’s bitchy comment about her being too sexually needy for him couldn’t hurt her anymore. A handsome, virile guy with more testosterone in one eyelash than Dan had in his entire body had found her irresistible not just once, but—she turned off the water and stared at her face in the mirror—four times.

  She blinked back at herself wonderingly. Was that biologically possible for a man more than a decade past adolescence? Maybe that last time nothing really came out.

  The door slammed. “Honey, I’m home!”

  Her body reacted instantly. In the mirror, she could see her eyes widen, the way she blushed and licked her lips.

  She squeezed the washcloth into a ball and threw it down onto the sink. Sex was great fun but she couldn’t get carried away. “Out in a minute!” She paused with her hand on the door. It wouldn’t look good to rush out as though she’d been dying without him.

  “Success,” he said. “There’s even enough for me, and that’s saying something.”

  She peeked out. He was trying to fit a few overflowing plates onto the small table by the window. The last one kept toppling sideways. Giving up, he put it on a chair before stepping back and brushing his hands together with pride.

  He was so damn cute. And he’d made the room smell like hot sugared starch and caffeine. Heaven. She walked over, suddenly shy, and took the empty chair. “Where’s yours?”

  He came close and tilted her chin up to look at him. Little jolts of electricity went through her as he stroked the tender skin of her throat. Then he bent over and brushed his lips against hers. “Right here.”

  She froze. “Miles—we need to talk. I’m not sure—”

  He smiled faintly, nodding at the steaming feast. “After breakfast.” He lifted the plate off the chair to sit down.

  The waffles were smothered with butter, chocolate chips, whipped cream, cinnamon, and fresh raspberries. She picked at it, hyperaware of him, a mountain of man sitting across from her. He had delicate table manners. He cut his food into small bites and used a cloth napkin to dab at a dollop of whipped cream that graced the corner of his sensuous mouth—

 
“I don’t think I can do this,” she blurted out.

  His eyes smiled at her over his coffee cup. “You’re doing fine.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m nervous. It’s ridiculous. After everything we did to each other all night, why would I be nervous?”

  His smile grew, stretching from ear to ear and taking over his entire face. “Because you know we’re about to do it again?”

  She tried to muster up something coolly dismissive, or even lighthearted and flirtatious, anything to show she wasn’t feeling raw and exposed and totally, completely terrified.

  Instead, all she could say was, “We are?” and stare at him blankly.

  “Yup.” His smile was gone now. He glanced down at her plate. “Done?”

  Numbly, she nodded. He took her plate and dumped it on top of the others.

  “We’ll have to talk later, then,” Lucy managed to say. Right before he lifted her up in his arms and threw her on the bed.

  Chapter 18

  LUCY CLIMBED UP ON THE bike behind Miles. She couldn’t stop smiling.

  “We’re never going to talk about this, are we?” She gingerly adjusted her weight on the seat. Sore, but the good kind of sore. Happy to have her arms around him again, she squeezed his waist, savoring the delicious realness of him.

  The engine sputtered to life under them. He turned his head, but in the helmet she couldn’t see any hint of his face. “Did you say something?”

  Shaking her head slightly, she reached down between his legs and stroked him.

  “Hate to say this, but you can’t do that now,” he said. He was half-shouting through the helmet visor.

  With one last little pat, she took her hand away, grinning. She’d never felt like this before. Like nothing mattered. She could float away with the fog, she was so light.

  “Hold on!” he shouted, and they were off.

  And damned if the ride didn’t get her all turned on again. Was good sex like eating potato chips? She’d devoured his whole bag and now was trying to get the last crumbs out of the bottom corners with a wet finger.

  A sharp curve in the road, with a sharp drop-off to the rocky shore below, made Lucy grab onto Miles like a baby koala.

  Yet more proof she wasn’t herself; the height only gave her a few butterflies. And she was already lightheaded.

  There was another curve, and another. They passed an RV, then a trio of cyclists, and she lost herself in the rhythm of the journey and the beauty of the ragged, wild coast.

  Later. She’d think later.

  * * *

  “I thought we were going to do a spiritual retreat,” Lucy told Fawn that afternoon, stifling a yawn as she stepped into the large public hot tub next to the lap pool. The pool complex was covered with a protective tent about fifteen feet high at the center and looked like a giant, hollow marshmallow. The warm, quiet humidity inside was a nice change after the relentless wind outside.

  Fawn glanced at the pool tent entrance, then settled down under the water. Tendrils of steam rose up around the hair she wore on either side of her head in two round, braided pigtails—Princess Leia the supermodel. “I wanted to talk to you privately first.”

  Uneasy with the serious tone, Lucy slipped down into the water to hide her face. She’d called from the B&B to admit her descent into sin, but Fawn hadn’t said anything other than “Okay,” and “Can you be back by four?”

  “Are you angry with me?” Lucy asked her finally.

  She looked at the door again. “Oh, no, of course not.”

  Lucy wasn’t convinced. “I’m sorry about Alex.”

  Fawn’s eyes were suddenly on her. “Are you?”

  “I know how awkward it might be…”

  “For him? Or for you?”

  “For you,” Lucy said. “I asked you to set me up, and then I blew him off in front of everybody. Well, not that I blew him at all. Ha, ha.”

  “You had a lot to drink. Was that it? You weren’t quite yourself?”

  A vision of riding Miles on the beach flashed through her mind. She felt her already rosy body get rosier. “You could say that.”

  “Because I don’t think it’s too late to explain that to Alex—”

  “I’m spending tonight with Miles. In his cabin.”

  Fawn stared at her, face blank. Her beautiful android-of-the-runway look.

  “You’re angry,” Lucy said.

  “If it’s not meant to be…” She bit her lip.

  The high-pitched whir of the pool bubble’s zipper opening caught their attention. Krista stepped in wearing a white bikini, Betty right behind her in a black wetsuit that went down to her knees.

  Fawn swore. Her eyes darted between them and Lucy.

  “What?” Lucy whispered at her.

  But their friends were already at the edge of the hot tub, stepping down to join them.

  “Damn, it’s hot in here,” Betty said, reaching for the zipper at her neck.

  Krista held up her hands. “Please don’t get naked again. I can’t take it anymore.”

  “I’ll melt!”

  “Why didn’t you just wear a bathing suit?” Krista jumped down to the bottom of the pool and strode through the water to Lucy’s side. “I have seen that girl’s boobs enough for a lifetime, God help me. I deserve a medal.”

  Betty stuck out her tongue and peeled the suit off. After a shimmy for Krista, she stepped down into the bubbling water, completely naked, while the rest of them openly stared.

  “Is that a tornado under your belly button? I’ve never seen that one before,” Lucy said, studying her tattoos before they disappeared under the surface.

  Betty wiggled her eyebrows. “The vortex of love,” she said. As they laughed, she went on, “Speaking of which, where were you last night? Not to mention—ouch!”

  Fawn bobbed over and put an arm around Betty’s bare shoulders. “Sorry. Guess I slipped.”

  “You stuck your foot in my vagina!”

  Biting her lip while the others laughed, Fawn said, “Sorry,” and bent down to say something in Betty’s ear.

  “Fawn, what’s going on?” Lucy asked. “You’ve been acting funny all afternoon. If it’s about me, forget it. They obviously know already.”

  “Know what?” Krista asked, looking alarmed.

  Fawn ducked her head.

  Did she really think, after last night, there could ever be anything between her and Alex? Lucy hadn’t made her decision with the clearest of heads, but it was done now.

  “I slept with Miles last night,” Lucy declared, understating the events for the sake of simplicity and what shred of privacy she had left.

  Krista gaped at her. “What?”

  “Miles,” Lucy said. “We spent the night together. Just wanted to get it out there.”

  Krista continued to stare. After a long moment, she asked in a little voice, “Alex was there?”

  With an awkward laugh, Lucy said, “Only at the beginning.”

  Krista closed her eyes. “I see.” She sank down into the water and disappeared. Only her curly, dark hair was visible, floating on the surface.

  “Your hearing aid!” Betty cried, splashing over. She jerked Krista to the surface. “Your hearing aid!”

  Eyes downcast, Krista shook her head. Water trickled down her face. And a few tears.

  Betty hopped out of the pool, displaying a labia piercing that made Lucy flinch. Then she grabbed a pile of white spa towels from a nearby basket. Squatting down, ignoring Krista’s tears, she popped a hearing aid out of one ear, then the other, and wrapped each carefully in a towel. “You dork,” she said affectionately. “Not that you can hear me.”

  Wishing she knew what the hell was going on, Lucy tried to read the glistening faces of her friends. “Did she… like Miles?”

  Ignoring her, Betty jumped back in the water, her naked breasts bouncing, and took Krista’s face in her hands. Face to face, so she would read her lips, Betty said, “He wanted you. You. Are. Hot.”

  Krista shook her head. �
��He was drunk!”

  “It gave him the excuse he needed,” Betty said.

  “I was just a rebound girl!”

  “You’re the one he really wanted.”

  Lucy met Fawn’s eyes across the pool, finally understanding. “Alex and Krista?” she asked, and Fawn nodded.

  That was fast. Lucy sank deeper into the water and pondered the steam rising up between them. She felt a funny surge of relief. If Alex had slept with Krista, she was off the hook. They were even. Neither of them wanted the other.

  “He was after Lucy, not me.” Krista looked at Betty and wiped her eyes.

  “He wised up,” Betty said.

  Lucy frowned. That didn’t sound very nice.

  “And I was going to have Miles!” Krista continued.

  Uh-oh, Lucy thought.

  Betty started to put a hearing aid back in her ear before Krista took over and put them in herself.

  “I had it all figured out,” Krista said. “Now it’s a mess.”

  “Was it that bad?” Betty asked. “Last night? Because sometimes those preppy ones are rockin’ in bed. All that pent-up energy. Give them a chance and they explode. Oh, was that it? I’m not an expert on penises but I can imagine the letdown if he starts squirting too soon all over the place and you haven’t even—”

  “It was fine!” Krista said, while Lucy and Fawn tried not to laugh. “Really good, actually.”

  Betty threw up her hands. “So what’s the problem? Did he text you pictures of himself naked? Put a secret video online? What?”

  “I had it all figured out but at the first opportunity I jumped in bed with another guy just because he showed a little interest in me.” Krista dropped her face in her hands. “What’s my problem? What if I can’t be faithful because—”

  “It’s kind of early to worry about faithful,” Betty interjected, then added under her breath, “Of course, in my opinion it’s always too early.”

  “—because I’m so friggin’ pathetic I need to please every man who might want me?”

  Betty put an arm around her. “Of course you’re pathetic. Everyone’s pathetic about love.”