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I could still feel the soreness in my ass, but I would have given anything to have him throw me down on the couch and fuck me senseless again. The way he’d taken control, made me do everything he said without even really trying…
My body hummed with anticipation.
“Oz, did you hear me?” Jake asked.
I was still focused on his mouth, so I didn’t consider my words before I said, “No, models can’t.”
“Models? You’re a model? I thought you designed clothes.”
Fuck.
“Oh, um, I do,” I said quickly. “The modeling is just a side thing to pay the bills until my design career picks up.” That much was the truth.
Yeah, sure it is… Laird.
I told my inner voice to shut up. “Designing clothes was all I ever wanted to do, you know?” I said, eager to get off the topic of modeling so Jake wouldn’t ask too many questions. I didn’t know why, but I just didn’t want him to know about Laird and how big of a name I really was in the industry. All it would take would be one search on Google of the name “Laird” and he’d start looking at me differently.
And I just couldn’t take that.
Not from him.
“How come?” Jake asked.
“How come what?” I asked, momentarily lost as the fear of losing whatever was happening with Jake consumed me.
He smiled patiently. “Why have you only ever wanted to design clothes?” he asked.
“Oh, um, well, I guess I just really like what clothes can do for a person.”
“How so?” he asked.
“Well,” I began as I took a bite of the sandwich. “I guess… holy shit!” I practically moaned as flavor exploded on my tongue. “Oh my god,” I groaned around the incredible flavors. “This is the best fucking grilled cheese I’ve ever tasted,” I managed to get out.
Jake chuckled. “My mother’s secret recipe,” he said with a smile.
“Oh my god,” I repeated before taking another huge bite, then a third. The first half of the sandwich was gone within seconds. “Tell your mom she’s a freaking genius,” I said.
Jake stiffened at that, and I froze. “Oh fuck, Jake, I’m sorry. Is she—”
“No,” Jake cut in. He swallowed hard and dropped his eyes. “I just haven’t seen her in a really long time.”
On the one hand I was relieved I hadn’t been talking about a dead woman, but it was clearly a painful topic for him. As desperate as I was to know more, I also knew I’d lose him if I pushed. I reached out to touch his hand, more to get his attention than anything else. “Want to know what the first outfit I ever designed was?”
That got him to look up at me.
“What was it?”
“In 2002 Oxana Fedorova of Russia took the Miss Universe crown in a stunning white Gucci evening gown. I fell head over heels in love with how simple and elegant it was. Couldn’t stop obsessing over how beautiful it was and thinking, ‘God, I could make that.’ So I did.”
“Just like that?” Jake asked with a smile. “How old were you?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Ten or eleven, I guess.”
“God, your family must be crazy supportive and proud as hell of you.”
My stomach lurched, the delicious sandwich threatening to reappear.
“No. Definitely not. I made it in secret with an old white sheet, and when they found it, I had to say it was a surprise for my little sister for her dress-up bin. Fortunately, her birthday was the following week. Unfortunately, she and her friends enjoyed that gown so much it was mud-covered and tattered within a day. I cried my fucking eyes out over that thing.”
Jake reached for my hand and threaded his fingers through mine. “I’m sorry.”
I shrugged, trying desperately to avoid the feelings the memory dredged up.
“Eh, typical overly religious household. Couldn’t handle my talents. Moved on to bigger and better things, right?” I turned to him with a smile, but it was clear he saw through it.
“If you could design for anyone in the world, who would it be?” he asked, before taking another bite of his sandwich.
I wanted to kiss the man for reading me so well and changing the subject.
“Emma Stone,” I said. “Sassy as fuck. Someone needs a personality to wear the kind of things I like to design now. No more simple white dresses for me.”
“Oh, yeah, Emma,” Jake said with a nod. “What I wouldn’t have given to be her in that movie—”
“—with Ryan Gosling?” I cut in with a nod. “Oh my god, I knew I was gay when I was like twelve, but when he took his shirt off in that movie—”
“I know,” Jake said with a laugh. “That was the exact moment my brother decided to tell me he was bi. I nearly choked on my beer—”
Jake’s words cut off abruptly, and I knew why. Part of me just wanted to let him off the hook, but the other part of me needed to know more about this man who’d somehow managed to turn my life so upside down in just a matter of days. “What’s your brother’s name?” I asked, fully expecting Jake to shut down the question, probably even take off.
