Page 26 of Strut

“Enough.” I held up a hand.

Rhys smirked. “Then I only have one thing left to say to you.”

I thought about ignoring the smug bastard, then caved because... best friend. The path of least resistance was just common sense. “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what?”

He smirked. “I’ve never known you to be a quitter, Hunter. Why would you start now?”

“That’s two things,” I pointed out and ended the call.

CHAPTERSIX

Alec

I openedan eye and glanced across the room to where Tim lay curled on his side on the bottom bunk, snoring, his face slack with sleep. The bunk above him was empty, meaning Marco was up, along with one or two others if the soft murmurings from the lounge on the other side of the wall were anything to go by. And the bunk above mine was also still and silent, a good indication Peter had already left for his Sunday shift at the food truck.

I watched Tim sleep for a moment, his face young and innocent in the weak light that skirted the edges of the poorly fitted roller blind. He must’ve had a late night, since I’d worked until three and I didn’t hear him come in. The bar had been crazy busy, a welcome distraction from all things Hunter Donovan. Not that it helped much. The man had taken residence in my brain, and I was having a hard time thinking about anything else.

He’d asked me on a date. A date. Not a hook-up. Adate. I’d done the right thing by turning him down, the safe thing. I knew that. So why had I spent every hour since that moment repeating it to myself in an effort to believe it? That, and remembering the feel of his soft mouth and his scratchy scruff under my lips when I’d had a brain explosion and kissed him.

We didn’t even live in the same country, for fuck’s sake. It should’ve been a slam dunk. So why was I so stuck on the guy? He’d apologised. We had a nice day out. He’d asked me on a date.Fuck me. I’d said no. Game over. And then he’d gone and damn well looked... sad.

Sad?

Kind of the last thing I’d expected. And that right there was the problem. I tugged the sheet up under my chin and sighed. Hunter bloody Donovan had definitely looked sad when I’d turned him down. There was no denying it. Sad. Like it fucking meant something to him. LikeImeant something to him. Like he’d really wanted it. How was that even possible, regardless of how much I wanted it to be true.

Tim groaned and turned onto his back and my gaze slipped sideways. For a small guy, he had a tight body, and... I frowned. Were those bite marks? Huh. At least one of us had a good night, although those suckers would need makeup before Tim rocked up to any castings next week.

I leaned over the edge of my bunk and tapped my phone screen. Eleven thirty.Shit.Five hours’ sleep and I still felt like crap. The bathroom mirror could wait. I needed coffee at the very least before I’d be ready for that confrontation. Samsonite had nothing on the bags under my eyes. I prodded the boggy messes and winced. Nope. Definitely too early for that.

I fell onto my back, stared at the bunk slats above my head, and sighed. With the test shoot coming up for Berlini Man, I had to be at my best by Friday afternoon, which meant discipline, starting with gym, rest, a healthy diet, and some intensive skincare.Oh joy.

I slid out of bed and pulled a T-shirt over my briefs before squeezing my way past the bikes lined up in the hallway and stepping into the matchbox-sized lounge. I nodded to Aaron, a tall Scandinavian beauty of a man sprawled on the couch. He winked in reply and went back to scrolling through his phone.

“Something arrived while you were asleep.” Marco’s green eyes danced as he nodded to a small posy of slightly battered flowers sitting on the dining table. His sexy Texas drawl was always thickest fresh from bed.

I stared at the mix of baby’s breath and semi-wilted short-stemmed roses slowly baking in the mid-morning sun that flooded the room. “For me?” I turned a confused face to Marco.

“According to the card.” Marco leaned his tall, lanky frame against the countertop and grinned around a spoonful of cereal. With messy curls, an attitude that screamed mischief-maker looking for love, and a lean swagger on the runway that made you want to take him home and feed him up, he positively nailed that bad-boy/cute vibe that had quickly made him a popular addition to the castings and runways of New York.

I sent him a withering look. “You read the card?”

“Of course.” He shrugged his dark olive-toned shoulders and returned a wry smile. “It filled some time while my toast was cooking.” He cleared his throat and waved his spoon in the air. “‘Thanks for a lovely day.I thought I’d get you started on the weird and wonderful.Good luck with the shoot on Friday. H.’ Or words to that effect.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re impossible.” Then I glanced at the massive bowl of cereal he was tucking into and frowned. “Toastandcereal?”

Marco grinned and licked a drop of milk from the side of his mouth. “I fasted all yesterday for that stupid gig at the Hudson Gallery last night, and I still barely squeezed into the look they had us wear. A condom would’ve given me more wiggle room. Besides, I’ve got a date with Amanda tonight. I need my strength.” He nodded at the flowers. “You never said you had an admirer, Alec? And a gorgeous well-known photographer, no less. Mind you, I would’ve thought he could afford a better bunch of flowers. That thing looks like it was dragged by a horse around Central Park.”

Aaron glanced up from the couch. “What photographer?”

Marco licked his lips. “TheHunter Donovan. The mysterious H on the card.”

What the fuck?“How did you—”

“I had the pleasure of meeting him at the door, although he declined my invitation to come inside. Still, a personal delivery, Alec? That says something right there. Oh, and there are tickets, as well.” He pointed to the envelope with his spoon. “I think they’re the weird and wonderful part.”

I walked across and pulled the card from the envelope, and a voucher for two tickets to go on The Greenwich Village Ghost Walking Tour fell onto the table.What the hell was Hunter playing at?

“Ooooh, flowers.” Levi suddenly appeared from another of the shared bedrooms and hurried over smelling of coconut shampoo and sex. “Must’ve been a hot date.” He elbowed me. “Go you. I was beginning to think you were unfuckable. And a photographer, no less.”

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