by M. Malone
“Well, that’s fine I guess as long as you find someone you actually want to see naked.”
“I’m not going to do it with the guy. Besides, who says I need to do anything with anyone right now. Being a virgin isn’t a crime.”
“No but bypassing the extreme hotness of Gabe Marshall to date the boring guys you’ve been with is. No wonder you haven’t given it up yet.”
I have to laugh, she’s so outrageous. “That has nothing to do with it.”
“You need to get some girl. If you don’t lose it finally you’re going to start growing cobwebs all up in your lady garden. And I want more than that for you.” She says this with typical Izzie aplomb, as if discussing the status of my lady parts is totally normal.
“Um, thanks for the support, I think?”
“Do you need an assistant? No matter who you end up using, you’re going to need someone to rub oil on the fine, naked male specimen in question before the shoot, right?” She beams at me before getting up and bouncing into the kitchen.
“Actually, I just might.” I whisper it to myself but now that the idea has been planted, it makes sense.
Isabelle for all her crazy ideas might just be onto something.
†
Izzie drags out her laptop and convinces me to send a few emails to local talent agencies. She’s way more excited about it than I am but by the time I go to my room to get ready for bed, I’ve started to imagine some of the shots. This is usually how it starts for me, with a vague image before I’m suddenly slammed with ideas for photos.
After washing my face and braiding my hair loosely, I change into my favorite worn T-shirt and a pair of cotton boxer shorts before climbing into bed. I plug my phone into the charger on my nightstand, ignoring the little red flag that tells me I have several missed calls. I’ve pushed off visiting my mom for the past week and it’s time to pay the piper. I’ll have to make time to see her tomorrow.
Moving out of my parents’ house may have bought me some sanity but I haven’t built up a backbone strong enough to break the tie completely. As much as I hate it, there’s a part of me that still wants their approval. It’s a dangerous cycle that keeps me chasing something that will always be just out of reach.
They weren’t thrilled when I dropped out of college but I think my mother could have overlooked that if I’d had another purpose. Charity work that would raise her profile or getting married to any of the eligible bachelors she’s had her eye on since we were all in nursery school together. But dropping out to focus on my art was akin to tragedy in her eyes. You’d think I’d told her I was shooting porn in my spare time.
Although in her eyes what I do is just as bad.
Thinking about my parents definitely isn’t helping me relax so I roll over until I’m facing the photos on the wall next to my bed. Instantly I feel better.
The slim elegance of a woman’s crossed legs. The graceful arch of a back. The passion of a couple’s embrace. Every single one of these images tells a story and I’m honored to be allowed the privilege of documenting that. Even if my parents don’t get it.
I fall asleep with the images in my head.
My dreams are vivid and when I wake, I feel like one big throbbing nerve ending. Maybe Izzie is right and I need to get some action before I self combust. But at least my pent up sexual frustration is good for something because by the time I get over to see Gabe again the next day, I have several pages of ideas jotted down in the little notebook I always carry around.
Sasha answers the door looking much more energetic than the last time I saw her.
“Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re here.” She moves back so I can come in. “He’s so cranky it’s unbelievable.”
This isn’t a surprise to me. Years of dealing with Gabe means I’ve seen him sick before. The man is a complete and total baby when he doesn’t feel well. When he had bronchitis one year, I was worried that I was going to do him more harm than the virus.
“He’s always been grumpy when he’s sick.”
Before I even have a chance to put my bag down, she grabs me by the hand and pulls me upstairs. I follow, trying not to trip since she isn’t slowing down to give me time to catch up. When we reach Gabe’s room, she shoves open the door and pulls me through behind her.
“I am going to take a walk. Maybe you can cheer him up. Nothing I’ve tried has worked.”
Before I can even respond, she walks back out pulling the door closed behind her.
I turn to look at Gabe. “What did you do to her?”
He grunts. “I’m ready to get out of this bed.”
“You look better.” And he does. It’s a relief actually to see him looking more like his old self.
“Better than one foot in the grave. I’m just balancing on the ledge of the grave now.” He moves over slightly so I can sit beside him.
“You’d better be nice to her. She’s the one preparing your food.”
He cracks a smile finally. “For some reason she loves me. So I don’t think she’ll poison me yet.”
The front door closes downstairs and then it’s quiet. I don’t hear anyone else moving around.
“What’s been going on with you?” He shifts slightly, turning so that he can recline against his pillows but look directly at me. I can tell he’s really uncomfortable and have to resist the urge to try to help him. So I rack my brain trying to think of something to talk about. Something that might distract him from how crappy he feels.
“So you know my last show sold out.”
Gabe smiles. “Of course it did. It was awesome.”
His unwavering support has gotten me through so many rough times in my life. It’s one of the only things that I’ve always known that I could count on. Every time I think about telling Zack how I feel, I imagine what things would be like if it didn’t work out. Then not only would I lose him but Gabe’s friendship, too.
“Thank you. That means a lot. It also means that I can pretty much shoot whatever I want for my next show. Mr. Hartwell is pretty sure that he can sell whatever I give him now. So I decided to focus on the male body for my next series.”
His eyes narrow. “What does that mean exactly?”
“It means that I’ll be focusing on men this time around. No couples. No women. Just the male form. One male form, specifically. I think it makes sense for the whole series to be about the same person.”
He shifts in the bed. “Have you already found someone?”
Suddenly, I’m not so sure I want to tell him. Sasha said that the way Zack was looking at me wasn’t very brotherly but Gabe is very much the big brother type. I’m actually more worried about telling him certain things than my real big brother.
“I think I’m going to hire someone. A model.”
His face goes hard immediately. “A stranger. You’re going to be alone taking naked pictures of a stranger? What if the guy isn't trustworthy?”
“Don’t be such a prude. We can always do a background check to make sure the guy isn't a criminal.”
“You know just as well as I do that background checks aren't worth shit. I would have passed one.”
I have to admit that he’s right on that score. As many things as Gabe has gotten into in the past, he was usually able to charm his way out of trouble. Also, being alone with someone I don’t know sounds like a bad idea. Izzie’s suggestion about being my assistant doesn’t sound like such a bad idea all of a sudden.
“A clean background check doesn't tell you a guy is safe. It just means he was good enough not to get caught.” Gabe winces as he moves.
That’s when I really look at him. This conversation is seriously stressing him out. And worrying him is the last thing I wanted to do when I came here today.
“Okay, just take it easy. I’m not doing anything yet. I’m just thinking about it.”
“Promise me you won’t do anything crazy. Promise me!”
“Whoa, okay. I promise. Now calm down before Sasha comes back and we’re both in
trouble.”
chapter three
†
ZACK
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way Josie looked right before she walked away. The sight of her in tears is particularly disturbing since she rarely cries.
My distraction is particularly inconvenient right now since with Gabe out of commission I’m pulling double duty at the auto garage we co-own. It’s a grind trying to keep up with the scheduled repairs and run the front desk. We have a great team of guys but most of them aren’t really well-suited to customer service.
“This goddamned computer. It’s broken again.”
Jim, the older guy who taught both of us everything we know about cars, swears like a drunken sailor and thinks most technology is out to get him. He was happy to take a turn standing behind the counter for any walk-ins but I’ve had to take time out between jobs to correct the customer information he’s entered in the computer all day.
“It’s okay, I’ve got it.”
He moves away quickly, grateful to escape back to what he knows best. I type in the last information from the customer slip that he was trying to input in the system and then walk over to the front door and lock it.
Reed, one of our motorcycle specialists, is helping a customer at the other end of the counter but he can unlock the door for her when they’re done. Usually I don’t flip the sign to closed while there are still people in the shop but at ten minutes to seven, I’ve had all I can take today.
After another hour in the back finishing up, I make my escape. When I get home, I’m shocked to see Gabe sitting downstairs. He looks a little better but suddenly I’m hit with visions of him passing out and bleeding all over the floor.
“Do I even want to know how you got down here?”
He grunts. “Tired of being a fucking invalid.”
There’s not much I can say to that. This situation sucks no matter how you look at it. I sit next to him on the couch. “Come on. We need to get you back in bed.”
“I was waiting for you for a reason. It's about Josie. She’s decided on the subject of her next photo series.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. We went to her first gallery show a few weeks ago and I was blown away. Gabe had told me that she was taking erotic pictures but I hadn't been prepared for how intense the photos were. They weren't so much about sex as they were about vulnerability. Fear. Longing. Looking at her photos was like taking a peek into her most private thoughts and the experience left me completely gutted.
I want to support her but I’m not sure how much I can take. Standing in a gallery while random people looked at her work felt like letting others see her naked.
God help me if she ever decides to do a self-portrait.
“Another show like last time? I’m sure her parents are thrilled.”
“No. Something different.” His voice is rising as he speaks and I can tell how agitated he is. “She says she wants to focus on the male body. I already told her no fucking way.”
Suddenly my skin feels too tight. All I can see is Josie taking pictures of some guy, talking to him, touching him and it’s killing me. But after my initial surge of rage and jealousy then I circle around right back to where I’m sitting. On a couch with the only person Josie really wants.
"Gabe, she's a big girl. If she wants to take nude pictures, you can't stop her."
Not to mention that he has a girlfriend. It drives me crazy that he still has this weird sense of ownership over Josie, like she belongs to him. I stand and he struggles to his feet as well. I immediately put my arm around his waist, holding him against me as we walk.
He grunts in pain as we ascend the stairs. "The crazy woman is thinking about hiring some random guy to get naked for her. You really want her spending hours at a time with some naked dude? What if this guy hurts her?"
His words are like being dunked in ice water. Josie alone at the mercy of some guy? Oh hell no. Every muscle in my body tenses simultaneously and Gabe immediately tunes in to my distress.
"Yeah, that's what I thought. You don't like the idea any more than I do. You have to stop her, Zack."
It’s so incredibly ironic that he’s passing the responsibility off to me when he’s the one that Josie would do anything for.
"How the hell am I supposed to do that? You're the one she listens to, not me."
"Talk to her, please."
By this time we've reached his room and Gabe looks absolutely destroyed by the effort it took to climb the stairs. As much as I want to wash my hands of this entire situation, I can't. Because if I don't agree, he'll wear himself down trying to handle it. He's in no condition to deal with this right now. Once again I find myself in an impossible position, held hostage by my love for the both of them.
"Okay, I'll talk to her. But you know it's impossible to make Josie see reason when she's got her mind set on something."
"Just try." Gabe sinks down slowly onto the bed and lets out a ragged sigh of relief as he collapses against the pillows. "You're the only one I trust to take care of her. Jo is special, you know she is. I just need her to be safe."
"I've got it, bro."
His eyes are already closed and I doubt he heard me but there's a sense of peace on his features. Gabe and I have always had each other's back so he's counting on me to fix this since he can't.
†
By the next day I’ve worked myself up to go see Josie. Gabe has asked me to talk to her as if that’s an easy thing. But Josephine Harlow is notoriously stubborn. I’m already anticipating that I’ll be leaving with claw marks after our conversation. Want to know the really sick thing?
I’m actually looking forward to it.
How pathetic is it that my twisted heart is happy with any scrap of her attention, even the negative kind?
Just the thought puts me further into my cranky mood.
When I reach the stately white Victorian home that she’s recently moved to, I park on the street right in front of the house. As I get out, I look around curiously, taking in the well-manicured lawns and expensive cars in the drives of most of the other homes. Fancy.
I should have expected this since Jo’s parents live in the kind of hoity toity community where everyone looks like a plastic doll. I would have thought that her new neighborhood would be different since she’s been so determined to get away from that world. Then I remember that she lives with her friend Isabelle. I’ve met Isabelle a few times but my mind brings forth only a vague recollection of a gangly girl with long blond hair and braces.
I didn’t think I looked that bad but an older man getting out of his car a few houses over stares at me openly as I walk up the drive to the house. I guess bad is relative. Where I’m from I wouldn’t get a second glance but in this neighborhood, I look like a walking felony. My dark hair is gelled up into spikes today and the sleeveless black shirt I’m wearing exposes all the tattoos on my arms. No doubt I’ll give her neighbors something to gossip about over their dinner tables tonight.
Just before the gawking grandpa reaches his front door, I raise my hand and wave gaily. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
He looks petrified and then rushes inside his house. The door slams behind him.
“Well, I hope it wasn’t something I said.”
Just when I’m about to knock on Josie’s door, it opens and a young blond guy walks out, muttering an apology as he passes. I turn around and another guy appears in the doorway.
This one looks me up and down and then says, “You’re probably out of luck, man. The call sheet specifically said they wanted late twenties.”
“Excuse me?”
He shrugs. “Just trying to help you out. You’ve got a baby face. But if you think you can fool them, go for it.”
By the time I’ve worked out what he said, he’s gone. I watch wordlessly as he walks down the drive and gets in a car parked across the street. The front door is still hanging open so I push it open all the way and step inside. Closing it behind me, I follow the so
und of voices and laughter.
If Josie is having a party then I’ve officially bought myself some more time. I’m not looking forward to trying to talk her out of this crazy idea. But nothing prepares me for what I see when I enter the living room.
Josie sits behind a white folding table chewing absently on the end of a pencil. A blonde that I immediately recognize as Isabelle stands right behind her. She’s filled out some and her hair is slightly darker but it’s definitely her. They both stare mesmerized at the guy undressing in the middle of the room.
The guy they’re watching is bare chested and doing something with his abs that makes them look like they’re rippling. When he goes to unbutton his jeans, I jerk my gaze away, trying to look at something, anything, other than this dude’s junk. That’s when I notice the others.
My mouth falls open.
There’s an entire line of shirtless young guys waiting their turn to approach the table.
“What the hell is going on here?”
My voice breaks through the noise in the room and everyone turns to look at me simultaneously. The dude undulating his abs pauses mid-ripple. Isabelle is having a really hard time deciding whether she wants to look at that or me.
Josie stands, her chair making a loud screeching sound as she pushes away from the table. “Zack? What are you doing here?”
I gesture around me. “I’m here to talk to you. Gabe told me what you’re up to but he didn’t mention that you’d already started hiring.”
Her eyes skitter away. “He doesn’t know.”
“I guessed that part. I’m guessing he also doesn’t know that you’re holding auditions for Magic Mike in your living room?”
She glances behind her sheepishly at the guy with the abs who is watching us with confusion. He points at his pants.
“Should I take these off? Because I can do this thing with my thigh muscles that you should see.”
