Ryke shakes his head at me like I can’t even… “Are these models really turning you on right now?” I grow even hotter than before. Technically Loren Hale is turning me on the most.
“Hey,” Lo cuts in. “You don’t know what she’s going through.”
Ryke raises his hands in defense. “I just don’t see how these guys wearing sweater vests and checkered shirts could arouse any girl, not just her.”
Lo thinks about it and nods. “Point taken.”
Whaaa…I pinch his arm.
He smiles, not even pretending that it hurt.
“Just tell me what they look like,” I say, focusing on Lo’s kneecaps. If he could just move a little closer, I could swing my leg around his—
No.
“Twenties,” Lo explains. “Nice hair.”
I wait for more, but that’s it. “Horrible description.”
“If I paint a vivid picture, you might as well just look at them.”
And fantasize about someone else besides Lo? Not gonna happen. My mind is in DEFCON mode. I have to take precautions, lock it down, before it betrays me.
Lo motions to the runway and says to Ryke, “What if that’s her boyfriend?”
“The blond shirtless one?” Ryke’s face completely darkens, and his jaw hardens to stone.
“Don’t look so upset about it.”
“He’s probably twenty-eight,” Ryke retorts.
“No way, he’s most likely seventeen. Models usually look older than they are.”
“Example A,” I chime in, “my sister.” Daisy has been mistaken for a twenty-something college student as much as I’ve been mistaken for a teenager.
“Exactly,” Lo adds.
“It’s probably that guy,” Ryke says, briefly pointing to someone.
Curiosity compels my gaze that-a-way. The models aren’t nearly as attractive as Lo, so I take a relaxed breath. I find the guy Ryke picked out. He’s tall, lanky with large ears and a shaved head. I cannot see him with Daisy. At all. It’d be so mismatched. Maybe that’s why Lo and I start laughing at the same time.
From across the runway, I catch Rose rolling her eyes at us, but her lips rise as she whispers to Connor again. Despite her usual cold glare, she radiates happiness. Maybe because Lo and I are exuding some bright sentiments rather than stormy ones.
And Scott has seemed to only push Rose and Connor closer rather than tear them apart. For a brief second, the producer locks eyes with me. He combs back his dirty blond locks, his smile just as greasy as his hair.
He winks at me.
I shiver. My sex cravings begin to nosedive, and I gladly focus back on my boyfriend.
“Right,” Lo says to his brother. “Out of all the models here, Daisy is going to choose the oddest looking one.”
“I don’t have anything to go off of,” he growls, practically sulking. “It’s not like I’ve met her old boyfriends.”
I look up at Lo. “Have you met her ex? His name was…Josh, I think.” I hone in on Lo’s pink lips.
He thinks hard, and I watch his forehead wrinkle in contemplation.
Kiss him.
Later. “He had an average build, brown hair,” Lo recalls. He leans into us as he speaks to avoid disrupting the runway show.
Seriously though, everyone is talking.
That description doesn’t ring any bells for me. “Why haven’t we even seen a picture of her new boyfriend?” I ask them. “Shouldn’t he be in the tabloids?” I check them daily still, and nothing. No headlines with: Daisy Has a Hot Model Boyfriend!
“I’m with her when she’s around town,” Ryke explains, “and she refuses to bring him for some reason. It’s fucking weird.”
“Maybe he doesn’t exist,” Lo theorizes.
“I thought about that,” Ryke says, “but she had…” He cringes and gestures to his neck.
Lo groans. “God. Stop…she’s still thirteen to me.”
“What?” I perk up. Hickies. Must be hickies. But I don’t want to be called a pervert in public, even jokingly by Ryke, so I don’t offer my guess.
“Hickies,” he says. Knew it. “You’ll probably see them on next week’s episode.”
Lo groans even more and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why does she even have a boyfriend?”
“The sex,” I blurt out.
They both stare down at me like what the fuck? Their angered, dark scowls could kill, looking like brothers. I realize that sex was the wrong thing to say.