“Nice fuck,” Gunner said, while nodding, and then turned to me. “Nolly is part of the Duo with Solo, and she can’t get enough of the models. She’s been with, who?” Gunner said, looking around, while Ty and Nikko held up their hands. “Yeah, she gets around.”
“A little respect, man,” Scout said, while he seethed next to me.
“Come on, dude, you have to admit, she passes around her pussy.”
“Just shut the fuck up, man,” Scout shouted.
Whoa, shit just got real. I looked between Gunner and Ty, who were laughing, and Scout, who looked like he was going to start ripping heads off.
“Don’t worry, Axel,” Ty said, using my model name and making me hate him instantly. “Scout has had a crush on Nolly ever since he met her, and the funny thing is, she wants nothing to do with him. Apparently, she likes the bulky types, not the cut ones. Just a little more protein powder, Scout, and you’ll get your big boy muscles someday.”
“Fuck off,” Scout said, as he flipped both Ty and Gunner off and went to sit with Levi, who was still stone faced. It was as if he had zero emotions; it was kind of startling.
“Where you from?” Nikko asked me, while holding onto his girl at the hip.
“Nebraska, small town.”
“A corn kid,” Gunner said, making himself laugh.
I was starting to gather why Solo didn’t like the guys very much; they seemed nice, but it was as if they were all trying to top each other with insults. It was odd, but it was also a bunch of guys. I remember hearing my dad tell me stories about the guys in his platoon ribbing him during rotation; it’s what a bunch of dick headed men did.
“You could say that,” I answered, being vague.
“Are you going to drink that?” Ty asked, as he pointed to my beer.
“Nah, not feeling beer right now.”
“Well then, hand it over, man.” Ty grabbed it from my hand and downed it, then started making out with his girl again.
What had I gotten myself into?
“You have a girl?” Nikko asked.
“Nope, single.”
“But he has his eye on Solo,” Scout interjected, throwing me under the bus. He gave me an apologetic look once he realized what had slipped out.
Gunner, Ty, and Nikko all turned toward me with giant smiles on their faces. Ty was the one to break the silence when he said, “Solo, huh? Man, she has a chastity belt on. Good luck breaking through that thing.”
“Yeah, well, we’re just friends,” I added, looking down at my shoes.
“Ah, you already got the brush off,” Gunner said. “Don’t sweat it, bro, it’s common around here.”
“She’s hot,” Nikko added, “But she has set her standards and we don’t meet them.”
“Not too worried about it,” I said, looking around uncomfortably. This was not how I pictured my first night going.
“Shit, look at us,” Gunner said, waving his arms around the room. “We’re acting like a bunch of douche bags. Please excuse us; we’re not good at first impressions.”
“I can see that,” I said, before I could stop myself.
The guys all busted out in laughter and then dragged me to the table so we were all sitting down. The girls were told to hang out at the pool until the guys were ready for them. I could see by the way the ladies were treated that none of the guys were into serious relationships, which was fine. I was just different. I enjoyed having a girlfriend, someone I could talk to, hold, and spoil.
“Look at that baby face,” Ty said, as he gripped my head and smashed my cheeks together. “I’m surprised Zia went for you.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked, getting defensive.
“Don’t listen to him,” Gunner said, “He’s the biggest ass in the house. I’m sure Zia wanted someone who wasn’t a giant idiot to take pictures of.”
“And someone with bigger calves,” Scout snickered.
Ty stood up and said, “I swear to God, don’t start with that shit again.”
All the guys erupted in laughter, and I had no clue why. I had a lot of catching up to do.
“What’s wrong with your calves?” I asked, trying to look under the table.
“These fuck sticks think I have small calves, but I don’t,” Ty defended.
“Well, let me see. I can be the impartial vote.”
“That’s a good idea,” Nikko said, pointing at me with the beer in his hand. “Adam has no clue about your calf struggles. Let him be the judge.”
“There are no struggles,” Ty said, irritated.
I kind of liked seeing Ty squirm a little because he did seem like he loved picking on people. Probably one of those guys who could dish it, but couldn’t take it.
“Then let’s see,” Scout said, leaning back in his seat.
Ty pointed at Scout and said, “Watch it, skeletor; I have no problem pummeling your ass.”
“And how would you be able to catch up with me with those tiny calves of yours?”
Ty reached across the table while huffing something out and tried to grab Scout, who by no means was a skeleton. He was toned for sure, cut actually, but just wasn’t as bulky as some of the guys. Out of everyone, Levi and Ty were the bulkiest, then Gunner and Nikko. I would say that Scout and I were the least muscular, which was a joke, because compared to the average male, we were body builders.
“Calm the fuck down,” Nikko said, using some napkins to clean up the spilled beer that was now on the table. “Just suck it up and show off your calves. Damn, man.”
Eyeing Scout, who was just laughing, Ty got up and stood in front of the table for us to examine. I looked him up and down, and to any other normal man, his calves would have been hella tight, but compared to his upper half, brother needed to amp up his leg workouts.
“Well?” Ty asked, flexing his calves and turning.
The table fell silent as they waited for me to answer. I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms. “Sorry, man, you’re probably going to need some implants.”
“Fuck you,” Ty stormed off, making all the guys laugh and pat me on the back, welcoming me into the group.
I slightly hated the fact that I had to make fun of someone to get in with the guys, but because it was Ty, I could be okay with it.
“When do you get the rundown?” Gunner asked, as he popped another beer open.
“The rundown?”
“Probably tomorrow,” Scout answered for me. “He just signed tonight.”
“Nice,” Gunner nodded. “Make sure you pay attention, because Zia is really into making sure her models become social media sensations. I believe we all have over one hundred thousand followers on Facebook and going strong, thanks to the Duo.”
That was actually really impressive. I had no clue the male fitness modeling world was such a popular thing, but after being immersed in the life for half a day, I could see why.
“Why did you all start modeling?”
They all looked at each other for a second and then said at the same time, “Money.”
“So, I’m not the only one?” I felt better about that. At least it wasn’t their lifelong dream and I was going to be insulting them by being here.
“No,” Nikko said. “We all enjoy fitness, but modeling wasn’t our first choice. I wanted to be a professional MMA fighter, but that didn’t work out,” Nikko added quietly, making me wonder what happened there.
“I should have been in a band,” Scout added. I could have totally seen that. Scout was totally giving the rocker vibe with his sleeve tattoos and gauged ears.
“I was born to be in porn,” Gunner said with a laugh. “This dick was not meant to be cooped up in pants all day.”
“Good to know,” I laughed.
I looked over at Levi, who was turning his bottle in his hand, not participating. I really wondered what his story was.
“What about you, Levi?” I asked, trying to get him to participate.
Levi looked up at me and I could see the hurt in his eyes;
he just shook his head and got up. He walked away, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.
“Don’t take offense to his mood,” Scout said, trying to make me feel better. “He’s had a tough draw when it comes to his life.”
Changing the subject and the mood dramatically, Gunner put his hands on the table and said, “I don’t know about you, but Zia’s blow job earlier didn’t completely satisfy me. I need some pussy, Nikko, you in?”
“Yup,” he high fived Gunner and they called out to the girls, who were practically drooling to come back inside, to meet them in the living room, where the guys started playing music that bumped through the house.
“Blow job?” I asked Scout, who was leaning forward, trying to get a good eye on the girls.
“Yeah, the perks of being a Teeg Model, the photographer doesn’t mind getting down and dirty,” Scout said casually, as if that was normal.
Shock registered in my mind as I thought about the blonde bitch during my interview intermingling with these guys and getting on her knees to blow them. Putting the two images together didn’t really mesh well in my brain. Was that really something she did? Was that allowed? I guess it was, since it was her business; she could do whatever the hell she wanted, and I highly doubt that guys were complaining.
“By the white look of shock on your face, I can assume you weren’t expecting to hear that,” Scout interrupted my thoughts.
“No,” I replied, “I mean, she just doesn’t seem like the kind of person to do that.”
“You’d be surprised by the women in this industry. They’re never what you think they are; they’re always wanting something from you,” Scout said, while he looked down the hallway. “It’s why we don’t have girlfriends; we’re for show…we’re glorified trick ponies. Women only want us for our bodies, not our minds.”
As I listened to Scout, my eye caught the lit computer screen of someone lounging out by the pool. There could only be one person out there right now, and it had to be Solo, the one person who I thought broke all of Scout’s theories about women in the industry.
It was almost sad, to hear Scout’s theory on his life. After hanging out with the guys for a little bit, I knew for damn sure that I wasn’t going to be caught up in the “new girl every night” routine the other guys had. I had my heart set on one person and one person alone, who I knew would be different than everyone else. My gut never steered me wrong.
“Are you coming?” Scout asked, as he got out of his chair and walked toward the living room.
“Nah, I think I’ll pass for tonight. Thanks, though.”
Scout tracked my line of vision out to the pool and shook his head. “Let it go, man. You’re only going to drive yourself crazy.”
I’d rather drive myself crazy than never know what could have been.
Chapter Eight
Solo
A smiled was plastered on my face as Jim once again pulled the wool over Dwight’s eyes. The relationship between Jim and Dwight on The Office was just so perfect. I couldn’t get enough of their antics. I was just about to start a new episode when a warm hand pressed against my bare shoulder.
I jumped in place and turned to see Adam smiling down at me.
“God, you can’t just walk up on people like that. You could scare them half to death,” I said, as I pulled out my ear buds.
“If I scared you, would you cuddle up next to me for protection?”
I looked him up and down and said, “No, you idiot, if you scared me, I would most likely cock punch you and run away.”
He twisted his lips and said, “Hmm, not exactly what I was looking for.”
“What are you doing out here?” I asked, shutting the top of my laptop.
He shrugged his shoulders and sat on the lounge chair next to mine, after pulling in closer so we were only a few inches apart. The man was persistent, but subtle…at times.
“Things were going to start to get crazy in there with the guys. Those girls were wearing short dresses and the dance moves they were taking part in weren’t exactly PG. It’s really not my scene.”
“You don’t like partying?”
“Not really,” he said, looking up at the dark sky. “I’m more of a homebody…you know, watch a movie and eat some popcorn kind of guy.”
I was surprised by his candidness. I knew he was different, and I hated to admit it, but a little part of me was happy that he didn’t want to partake in one of the many parties the guys had each week. It made him that much more real to me.
“I’m the same way,” I admitted. “I don’t mind having a drink every now and then, but Nolly and the guys make it an evening ritual. I don’t understand where they get the energy. I mean, I’m not some old maid, but still, I like to be in bed at a decent hour.”
Adam laughed and then pushed his lips over his teeth so it looked like he had no teeth and said in an old man voice while waving his fist, “Damn, youngins and their party hootin’ and hollerin’.”
I laughed and shook my head. “I said I wasn’t an old maid.”
“No, you’re definitely not,” he replied, looking me up and down. His gaze landed on my attire, and with his hand, he pulled up the fabric of my pajama pants and said, “Ninja Turtles? Could you be any cooler?”
“I don’t think I could,” I teased. “Kind of maxing myself out here.”
“You really are,” he said with a smile, as he slipped his body down the length of the lounge chair and propped his head up on his hand. It was hard to not fall into the turquoise color of his eyes and the expanse of his boyish smile. I could feel myself gravitating toward him, so I made a conscious effort to keep my distance. But I couldn’t help but stretch out on my lounge chair as well and face him, only because I was getting tired, at least that’s what I told myself.
“Who’s you’re favorite turtle?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he said with that dimpled smile that was slowly tearing my walls down.
“Deal,” I responded. “Now, I just want it to be known that all the turtles are amazing in their own way…”
“Cleary,” he said, motioning his hand for me to continue.
“But if I had to choose one, I would have to choose…Donatello.” I held up my hand quickly and said, “Not because he is purple and I’m a girl.”
He nodded in understanding and allowed me to continue.
“I like him because he is the smart one, like me, but he’s also cool.”
Adam’s dimple grew to a new depth as his smile brightened. “You’re right about that, muffin.”
I let the name slip this time but only because he thought I was smart and cool.
“What about you?” I asked.
“Well, now I feel stupid about my favorite.”
“Come on,” I said, poking his hard chest, his very hard chest. Oh, fuck me, it was hard.
A wave of heat spread through my body as I tried to ignore the raging need for the man lying across from me who punctured my soul. No, it was just a little lust, a little infatuation, that’s all, I tried to convince myself.
He rubbed his chest and then looked me deep in the eyes, like he could see my soul and read every emotion I was having for him. He pressed his hand against my cheek and my stupid body reacted to his touch by pressing against his warm hand.
“Promise not to make fun of me?” he asked.
Were we really talking about Ninja Turtles while he held onto me ever so lightly and my heart was about to beat right out of my chest? There was something so wrong with this.
“Promise,” I said with a smile.
The loss of his hand when he moved it was devastating as he turned his body and looked up at the dark night sky.
“Michelangelo,” he said without looking at me.
“Michelangelo? Why? Was he your favorite artist or something?”
He shook his head and turned incredibly serious, and I prepared myself for some deep meaning that I probably didn’t want to learn about him, bec
ause it meant that we were getting closer. I needed to keep my distance, but who was I kidding? There was no way in hell I wanted to put distance between us; I only wanted to get closer.
He grabbed my hand and rubbed my knuckles as he lowered his head. “I don’t know if I can tell you this.”
“Adam, come on, you can tell me. I told you I wouldn’t make fun of you,” I reassured, but I was feeling slightly confused, since we were talking about Ninja Turtles.
He nodded and then looked back up at me while taking a deep breath as I waited in anticipation.
“It’s because…” he paused, almost too long, and then looked back up at me with such intensity in his eyes that I actually started to fret over what he was going to say. “It’s because I can’t get enough of pizza, just like Mikey.”
I sat up and looked at him and that now spreading smile of his.
“I hate you,” I laughed.
“What? Why?”
“I thought you were serious.”
“I am. Pizza addiction is a serious thing, nothing to be laughed at,” he replied with a slight smirk.
“You’re ridiculous,” I said, as I stretched out along my chair again.
“Cowabunga, dude,” Adam said like a dork, impersonating Michelangelo.
“You know, you really need to work on your impersonations. They’re not the best.”
“What? I take offense to that. I would like to see you do better.”
I turned toward him and said, “I know I would be awful at them…that’s why I don’t do them, to avoid embarrassment, something you should try doing.
Adam looked around and said, “Who ordered the spice muffin? Because I sure as hell didn’t.”
I tried to hide the twitch of my lips at his comment, but it was no use, he saw the way he affected me. Trying to deter him from pointing out the fact that he was slowly digging his way into my heart, I said, “Is Michelangelo really your favorite?”
“Yes, I love him. When I was younger, I actually used to beg my mom to make me the same kind of pizzas Mikey had.”
“Did she?”
“Yeah,” he said as he looked off, remembering his childhood. “I stopped begging after she made me Mikey’s favorite, anchovies and peanut butter.” He shook his head and continued, “That shit was so nasty.”