Page 76 of Last First Date

I chuckled at the irony of the situation. A few weeks ago, I was silently judging Knox for his past as an underwear model, and now, here I was, receiving flowers for strutting down the runway in lingerie.

I flipped the card over and saw a modeling agent’s contact information. I burst into laughter. There was no way I was ever going to do that again.

I went into the bathroom and tried not to look in the mirror. I turned on the water and stepped under the hot spray. As the water coursed down, hot and almost punishingly so, I watched my reflection grow hazy in the steaming mirror. I let the shower run over me, washing away the remnants of last night’s mascara.

The heat from the water turned my skin pink. I stared down at my body, still marked by his touch, and felt a pang of melancholy. He was both gentle and forceful. The man knew how to make a woman feel good. I didn’t want to think about how he managed to get so good in bed. The thought of him touching another woman made me unnaturally jealous.

After my shower, I wrapped up in another clean robe and put on my slippers. My phone had died at some point last night. I plugged in my charger and my phone before settling in one of the chairs. When there was enough juice, I turned on my phone to find countless texts, voicemails, and social media notifications.

“What the hell?”

My social media was flooded with tagged photos from the fashion show. I had not expected that to happen. There were over a thousand comments on the post from the lingerie company. They had tagged me, exposing me. I felt stripped naked with my body plastered all over for the whole world to see. I expected the people in the crowd to see me, not the whole damn world.

Knowing it was stupid, I clicked on the comments. To my surprise, they were all very supportive.

“Waverly is a total bombshell!” one comment read.

“Who is this goddess?” another questioned.

“I have seen the future of lingerie modeling, and her name is Waverly,” someone else proclaimed.

I was speechless. I scrolled through hundreds of comments, all of them positive, many even praising me for representing real women. That was when I came across a comment from Knox. It struck a chord deep within my soul.

“Had the honor and pleasure of seeing this beauty take her first walk on the runway tonight. She stole the show and everybody’s hearts.”

It was a surreal experience to witness the positive reception. A warmth settled in my chest. I was well-received.

I exited social media to check my texts. Meredith and Janie had both texted me, including screenshots of some of the stuff on social media. They were both ecstatic about my runway walk. To my surprise, there was even a congratulatory message from my mom. However, a touch of skepticism lingered as I read her words. My mom’s congratulations might be fueled more by the prospect of a potential windfall than genuine pride. She probably thought I was going to make a ton of money modeling and would kick it her way.

“Not happening, Mom.”

I went back to social media and browsed through some of the comments again. There was a thrill in reading them that was addictive, a strange kind of affirmation that I never thought I would crave. It was as though I was drowning in an ocean of praise and admiration, and every positive comment anchored me deeper into the euphoria. I suddenly understood why models and celebrities did what they did. The adulation made me feel like I could conquer the world.

My eyes drifted back to Knox’s comment, and warmth surged within me again. Whether it was meant to be so or not, it felt personal. His words were genuine, even in text form, and something about them made my heart flutter.

“What are you doing to me, Knox?” I muttered to myself, shaking my head.

As much as I would have enjoyed reading the praise all day, I did have things to do. Things that involved me actually seeing Knox again in a professional manner. I wasn’t sure how I was ever going to look at him the same way after our night together. This was why it wasn’t a good idea to mix business with pleasure.

I put my phone down and went to the closet where I had hung up my clothes. I picked a very basic outfit, one that I had brought with me. The navy-blue blazer and beige slacks were the polar opposite of the lingerie I had worn last night. I didn’t put on much makeup and pulled my hair back in the usual ponytail I wore. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw the old Waverly.

That was good. That was what I needed. I didn’t want to distract Knox, not that I could, but just in case. He needed to look at me and see a professional.

As I assessed my reflection, the woman staring back at me was a stark contrast to the one who had paraded on the catwalk twelve hours earlier. She was competent, she was business, she was not someone to be trifled with.

I reached for my lipstick, a shade of nude pink that wasn’t too bold but not too plain either. A quick swipe over my lips and I put it down again. I checked the time and wondered if Knox was up. We were supposed to be meeting with the director and the photographer that had been hired for the next event.

Picking up my phone, I texted him. “Good morning, are we still on for ten?”

The reply was almost immediate. “Yes. See you then.”

I put the phone down and let out a shaky breath. “Today is going to be an interesting day,” I muttered to my reflection.

Sure enough, when ten o’clock rolled around, there was a knock on my door. This was going to be so weird. I opened the door, hoping I looked calm, cool, and collected. Knox was wearing slacks and a cashmere sweater. The man could look good wearing a paper bag.

“Good morning,” he mumbled.

“Good morning.”