Page 79 of Walkoff Wedding

Heat pools in my lower belly at the sight of his broad chest and rows of taut muscles, and I wonder if there will ever be a time where I don’t feel so… affected by just looking at him.

Probably not.

My eyes follow the path of his chest, down the rows and rows of abs, along the trail of hair that disappears beneath his waistband, over the hollow dips of his hips that create the perfect V.

“This isn’t a fully nude session, so he would still be in underwear. This project is all about capturing the essence of the human form, enhancing our students’ ability to render all aspects of human anatomy in their own style.” He gives Grant an approving look. “A lean body, sculpted muscles, a chiseled jawline. He checks all the boxes.”

It doesn’t bother me, if I’m being honest. He’s the one that would have his body on display. I’d rather jump off a cliff than stand in front of a room full of people partially clothed.

Plus, this is how all classically trained artists practice. And my husband does have a body that’s worthy of being painted and hung in the Louvre.

I look at Grant, and he catches my gaze for a moment before reaching out and grabbing my hand in his. “Can you give us a moment?”

“Certainly. I’ll be inside if you decide to join us! Toodles!” Dr. Gatti says jovially before sauntering off.

Once he’s gone, Grant looks at me with an earnest expression. “If you’re not okay with this, then I’m good. I’m only offering because I know this class is important to you.”

I nod. “Oh yeah. You’ll be everyone’s knight in shining armor with all of your muscles. How will the art department ever repay this favor?”

A beat passes, and the corner of his lip curves into a shit-eating grin. “Oh, ArtGirl, I can think of a few ways you ca?—”

My hand flies to his mouth, covering it before he can say something else that causes me to actually catch fire in the middle of the hallway.

“Just go. God.” I laugh, nodding my head toward the classroom. “Go. Please.”

As expected, Dr. Gatti is beyond thrilled that Grant will be filling in for us today. As well as every woman and even a few guys, judging by the dreamy sighs and longing stares as he steps onto the raised platform in the center of the room in only a pair of tight, black boxer briefs.

Even I’m having a hard time focusing, and I see him every day.

Mostly with clothes though… but I am thinking that should change. Maybe. Not that I could say that to him.

“Okay, settle down, everyone. Settle down,” Dr. Gatti says with a knowing smile, raising his hands above him to garner attention as he stands beside Grant, who’s now perched on a velvet chaise in the middle of the platform. “As I’m sure you’ve probably come to realize, Ronaldo will not be joining us today. He’s unfortunately come down with a case of food poisoning, but we were able to find a replacement last minute.”

He sweeps a long arm toward Grant. “This young man has so graciously offered to join us for today’s session. Everyone, please give him a warm welcome.”

A chorus of hellos echo around the room, and he lifts his hand in a short wave, followed by a cocky smirk, not looking the least bit fazed to be sitting in front of a room full of people in nothing but his underwear.

I’m the one who’s frazzled, and I’m not sure if it’s because he’s so ridiculously hot that I can’t stop staring long enough to even get my charcoal out of my backpack and to secure my smock around my waist or the fact that every single eye in the room is on my husband.

He’s comfortable with the horde of attention because he’s used to experiencing it. The polar opposite of me.

I finally get my apron tied and my pencils out of the zipper pouch I keep them in and take a seat on my stool in front of the blank canvas.

Since meeting Grant for the first time, I’ve wanted to sketch him, but I’ve been too afraid to ask, so the fact that I get to do it for a grade is exciting.

My eyes flit back to the platform, where he’s laid back on the crushed-velvet chaise. Dr. Gatti has posed him exactly the way he wants, with Grant’s arm thrown over his head, strategically showing off all the sculpted muscles of his arms and abdomen but also in a way that looks as if he’s ready to take a nap. And while I can appreciate his body, it’s his eyes that make him truly magnificent. His dark, blue irises seem to smolder as they find me, holding mine for so long that my cheeks begin to burn. His lip twitches as he gives me a wink, and my throat runs dry.

How is he this hot?

It’s ridiculous. For anyone to be so attractive, so effortlessly.

What’s worse is I know all of the dirty, delicious things that he’s capable of when it’s just the two of us.

A dreamy sigh sounds beside me, and I glance over to see a girl staring at Grant with an awestruck look in her eyes. “God, he is the most beautiful man I’ve literally ever seen.”

I do my best to focus on my sketch, but as loudly as she’s talking to her friend, it’s next to impossible to ignore the conversation happening. Every few minutes, she’s got something new to say.

“And Jesus, do you see what he’s packing? Those briefs are like god’s gift to women. What?” She pauses when her friend giggles beside her. I see her elbow her through my periphery. “I’m only speaking the truth. You got eyes, girl.”

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