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Chapter 15
Leyna
I’ve never felt sonervous. Knowing that Jack will be out there, waiting to draw me, all of me, sends my pulse through the roof.
As usual, I have my wig and sunglasses on, but something feels different. Maybe because I know this is the last time I’m going to be doing this. And, although I’ve taken the decision to stop modelling, there is a part of me that is disappointed. Because in a weird, perverted, twisted sort of way, I actually enjoyed these art classes. Laying bare my soul, so to speak.
I walk out, not looking at anyone, and sit in a soft chair Karinna has placed in the centre of the room.
And this time I truly feel like my mask has not only slipped but fallen into the abyss. There is no blindfold and I won’t be laying with my back to the audience. I sit there completely exposed—just me. But I’m not afraid and I’m not easily intimidated. I sit there, open and honest and I embrace my own vulnerability. I embrace it until I can feel its truth coursing through me.
I remind myself that I’ve done the right thing, choosing to move in a different direction. It puts a scupper on my savings and my dream of owning an art gallery one day, but I’ll just have to find another way to make a few extra quid. I know it’s a dream that seems completely unattainable, out-of-reach. But having that dream has kept me going for the better part of the last five or six years. Ironically, the dream itself keeps my feet planted firmly on the ground. It gives me a sense of direction, of purpose, and without it, I’d probably just curl up into a ball and cry myself to sleep every night.
I sit on the edge of the chair, in a pose I hope I can maintain for the next hour, and I look straight ahead—and into the eyes of the man I’ve been avoiding all week long.
I don’t even see the other people in the room. Just him. In my mind, I fantasise that I’m on display for his eyes only. He looks so cool and calm. Like this is no big deal. But then again, he always looks that way. Besides, I’m sure he has no idea it’s me. He wouldn’t have toyed with me the other day at work and then sent me on that wild goose chase if he’d truly known it was me that he was painting once a week.
Would he?
Chapter 16
Jack
Despite my churninginsides, I keep a neutral expression plastered across my face as I try to pretend that it is not Leyna Burrows, the English Department’s administrative assistant, the woman I’ve fantasised about for the last year, sitting naked a matter of feet in front of me. I’m now certain it’s her and not just my imagination trying to turn any nude model into Leyna.
My palms are sweaty and I worry the charcoal is going to fall out of my hand.
Steady on, mate. Steady on.
I remind myself, in this strangely sterile classroom, that this is strictly a professional setting. There isn’t any room for lewd and lecherous thoughts. Keep it clean. And yet our last few encounters at work have inflamed an ache that burns every time I’m near to Leyna. It has made me question all my rules about what is and isn’t appropriate for work and who I should and shouldn’t be dating.
I set those rules out for myself, not thinking I’d ever want to break them. But now, as I’m standing here drawing her magnificent body, following the curve of her hip, the length of her legs, I don’t know what to think anymore. She has completely undone me.
