Page 51 of See My Words

“Definitely.” Chris kissed Rylan again, his lips lingering warmly against Rylan’s cheek. “Mmm, I can’t wait.” He dropped his arm from around him and moved to the front door. “Let me grab my hiking boots from the car. Be back in a sec.”

As soon as he’d gone, Minh clutched Rylan’s arm. “That man is absolutely delicious,” he hissed. “Good-looking, crazy about you. Go for it, sweetheart. Ain’t nobody gon’ judge you for dumping tall, dark, and broody.” He snorted. “Serve that game-playing motherfucker right.”

Rylan gave Minh a wistful smile. “I know, right? Don’t think the same thought hadn’t crossed my mind. But there’s one tiny problem: I happen to be in love with that game-playing motherfucker.”

Minh’s eyes softened. “And he’s head over heels for you, ain’t no doubt in my mind. We just need to get him to realize it.”

Rylan blinked rapidly, then croaked, “If you have any suggestions for doing that, I’m all ears.”

Minh gave him a comforting pat. “We’ll work on it. Meantime, go on and enjoy yourself with Chris, and for fuck’s sake, don’t hurry back. Won’t hurt Scott none to wonder and worry about what he did. He deserves to suffer a tiny bit, in my opinion.”

“He does.” Rylan gave a watery sniff. “I’m going up to get dressed. Be right back.” He turned to run lightly up the stairs, and as he walked into the master bedroom, he realized immediately that Scott had moved his things to one of the other two spare bedrooms down the hall. Asshole.

Rylan pulled on some cargo shorts and a T-shirt, along with some socks and his sturdy sneakers. He grabbed his camera backpack and reached for his phone, which was tossed in the middle of the bed. The lock screen lit up with several notifications, including two from Spectrum’s Instagram account indicating some new pics had been posted. Rylan swiped the app open, smiling when he saw Dee-Lyte up on stage in all her colorful tutu-ed glory, and then one of Pete in some leopard bikini briefs, his oiled muscles gleaming.

Pete’s hot and all, but where’s @ScottyA?? one comment underneath asked. The one following had a few crying-face emojis along with the words Miss you, @ScottyA! Are you ever coming back?

Shaking his head, Rylan scrolled through the previous set of pictures the club had posted, a colorful flyer and the words “MC₂” jumping out at him.

MC₂ Model Search, Round Two! Upload your photos, show us that sexy body in our underwear and you might have a chance of being our next Hawt Boy! Don’t forget to tag #HBMS2!

The Round One winner was on the poster, all smiles, abs popping and bulge prominent. Curious, Rylan went into the model search hashtag to check it out, swiping through the recent entries, most all of them selfies in front of a bedroom mirror while wearing nothing but MC₂ undies. Rylan snorted in disgust at the unoriginality.

He was about to toss the phone down when a sudden idea struck him. Rylan accessed his cloud and pulled up the pics he’d taken of Scott and Minh at the creek the day before, scrolling through them until he found the one he wanted, the one of Scott lying on a rock, sunning himself, his bare chest and ridged abs golden, sleek and glittering with water droplets. His wet cargo shorts were riding low on lean hips, revealing just the barest hint of pubic hair…and the waistband of his MC₂ briefs.

Scott was smiling mischievously up at Rylan, green eyes twinkling. There was a smudge of red dirt on his cheekbone, and his hair was wild and damp and sticking up all over. He looked happy and carefree and so fucking gorgeous that Rylan’s pulse did a sort of leap and started to race.

Deciding the pic was perfect the way it was, no filters, Rylan uploaded it to the club’s Instagram account with the caption, @ScottyA enjoying the weekend with friends and rockin’ his @MCSquared undies! He gave it several tags, including the required #HBMS2, and hit Post. Finally throwing his phone back down to the bed and slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he strode from the room to rejoin Chris.

* * *

“Your sense of composition is amazing.”

Rylan glanced at Chris, who was hovering near his shoulder looking down at the digital screen of Rylan’s camera and the pictures he’d just taken.

“Thanks, man,” Rylan replied, pleased.

“The way you framed the child in the light coming through the cracks in the rock, then waited to capture the perfect expression on her face…very impressive.”

“For a rookie, you mean?” Rylan teased, and Chris moved a little closer until his chest rubbed against Rylan’s shoulder.

“No, for a photographer, period.” Chris’s voice was serious. “Your work shows a maturity beyond your years, and your instincts are, from what I’ve seen, impeccable.”

Rylan flushed with pleasure, basking in the gentle admiration in Chris’s eyes, the warmth.

“I’d really love to work with you,” Chris continued. “Have you given any more thought to Africa?”

They started ambling down the trail again, the Palatki Ruins looming from the cliffs above. Rylan trailed his fingers over the low stone wall they were walking alongside, feeling the heat from the rocks.

“I’ve thought about it,” he said. “But Chris, my funds—”

“Don’t worry about that, or at least not as much as you are.” He smiled. “I’ve applied for the funding to bring you on as an official intern at the magazine.”

Rylan’s mouth dropped open as Chris said, “The position itself is unpaid, but your travel expenses will be covered as far as airfare and accommodations. Any incidentals will be your responsibility, but—”

He broke off when Rylan grabbed his arm exuberantly. “Oh my God! Really?”

Chris covered Rylan’s fingers with his and squeezed. “Really. You have a raw talent, Rylan, you just need a little experience and seasoning, that’s all. I see a very successful career ahead of you.”