My mouth gaped open. “That’s exactly what he said.”
“So, he did ask you to sleep with him… I knew it!” She pointed her finger at me. “I could tell when I walked in—he’s totally into you.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. This wasn’t helping. “This is not one of your romance novels, and he didn’t ask me to have sex with him. He asked me to pose for him,” I admitted before I could stop myself.
Though, really, I wanted to know why she thought he was into me.
“Pose?” She laughed. “Sure,” she said, drawing out the word. “That’s like asking someone to watch Netflix and chill.”
I frowned. “Watch Netflix and chill?”
“Yeah. You know…come over to my house, maybe we’ll watch some movies. But really, let’s have sex.”
“You’re serious?”How did I not know this?
She nodded, laughing. “Yeah. I’m serious.”
“I really think he just meant posing, nothing more. He has an exhibition coming up, and he’s stuck. He practically begged me to do it. Can you believe that?” I laughed, feeling my cheeks flush at the memory of him speaking in a gruff tone, saying the words, “I want you.”
I knew he meant nothing more than he wanted me to pose. But when he’d said those words, his blue eyes swirling with desire, it felt like he meant he wanted me.
Her expression turned serious as she cupped her mug.
“What’s that face about?” I asked, suddenly concerned.
“You heard about his accident, right?”
I shook my head. “No. What accident?”
“I don’t remember the specifics, but I think he was skiing and broke his wrist.”
“What?” I held my fingers to my lips, wondering how I hadn’t heard about it before.
“Yeah.” She nodded. “The wrist of his dominant hand.”
“But he’s okay, right?” I was almost too afraid to ask. “Like, his wrist is fine now?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “No one knows. He hasn’t shown any of his work publicly since.”
I considered that for a moment, wondered if that was why he’d seemed so desperate for my help. Maybe he just needed a push to get his confidence back. I couldn’t imagine what being forced to take off months from art was like. I’d be like…like—
“So, are you going to do it?” she asked.
I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know,” I hedged. “I just can’t imagine sitting there for hours on end—naked. While he paints me.”
“Just think of the connections he has. Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position—and not just for that reason?”
I nodded, having seen the way some of the other students looked at him. Okay, not some—all.
“He seemed pretty desperate. He offered to pay me or write me a letter of recommendation, whatever I wanted.”
That got her attention. “Oh my god. Do it.” I shook my head, watching as she grew more animated. “You have to do it. You’re his muse.”
I rested my chin in my palm. “Even if that’s true, I’m sure he’s hadmany‘muses’ over the years.”
“So?” She shrugged. “What’s wrong with that? I bet he’d be an amazing lover.” She waggled her eyebrows.
I laughed, feeling my cheeks heat.
