Page 21 of False Start
No one needed to know I’d already gotten lost in the moment.
Least of all Weston.
Weston
We finishedoff the preseason with a punishing away game that put us in a good place going into the regular season, but left me bruised and wishing that the week would drag before our next game.
The early morning Chicago air lifted my hair as I locked up my car and headed toward the shores of 12th Street beach. Trent had called me about a sponsorship opportunity that had come as a result of the photos of Georgia and me after our first preseason game.
I’d accepted because the offer was from Elite Mind clothing — Pace’s biggest competitors. The premise of the shoot wassupporting your goals.
There was also the added bonus of the other model for the shoot…
“Morning.” Her voice was sweet and husky like she’d only just woken up. Georgia’s hair was a mass of unruly curls on top of her head, and I did a double take as I realized she wasn’t wearing makeup. She looked younger. Vulnerable, somehow without the usual immaculate shades she painted her face in. Iliked her like this. And wasn’t that a dangerous thought for a whole lot of reasons.
“How did you sleep?” she asked as we made our way down the sand to a tent that had been set up for hair, makeup, and wardrobe changes.
“Fine. You?”
No reason for her to know my subconscious had taken to replaying the highlights of our night together on repeat every time I closed my eyes. The sounds she made, the taste of her on my tongue, her smooth skin beneath my fingers. All of it came together to ensure that while I wasn’t losing sleep, I could possibly end up losing my mind over this woman. The lines felt blurred already, and I hadn’t helped the situation by giving in to the urge to take care of things in the shower before I left home.
“Good.” The rushing of the waves on the shore only served to amplify the awkward silence that sprang up between us as a small woman stepped out of the tent.
“You must be Weston and Gia. Come in. I’m Vera, I’ll be your photographer today.” She ushered us into the dimly lit space and pointed out two chairs.
“Aren’t you two just gorgeous. Sit tight and the makeup artist and hairdresser will be in in a moment to get you sorted. We’re starting with the athleisure wear, then the lounge wear, then we’ll finish with the sports range after sunrise. How does that sound?”
I had no idea how Vera had so much energy at this time of the morning, but it was shared by the artists who came in and made me presentable while turning Georgia into a goddess.
For the next few hours, I was put through a special kind of torture as we wore outfit after outfit and moved through close, intimate poses all in the name of selling clothing. Unfortunately, my libido didn’t get the memo we were trying to be professional. Every time I caught a whiff of her vanilla scent, or ran myhand over her skin, fireworks exploded in my nervous system, insisting we should find somewhere a little more private.
We wrapped up shooting as the sky shifted from the pinks and oranges of sunrise into the blue of a stunning late summer day.
“Can I take you to breakfast?” I asked Georgia as we arrived back at our cars.
“I’d like that,” she said and pressed the button on her fob. Her car unlocked with a loud thunk and flashing headlights. “Where should we go?”
I wanted to take her home. To show her how good I was in the kitchen. And other places. But our goal was publicity, and we couldn’t be photographed there. Instead, I suggested a local favorite, where the pancakes were stacked high and fluffy, and the coffee was bottomless. She agreed easily and slipped into the driver’s seat of her car, promising to meet me there.
Traffic was light as I followed her through the urban streets. A couple of cars passed, filled with children on their way to weekend sports by the look of the matching jerseys. A lone pedestrian jogged along the sidewalk as a group of cyclists passed on the opposite side of the street. Even in the stillness, there was a life to the city.
I pulled into the parking spot beside Georgia’s and met her at the door to the diner, holding it open to let her through first before trailing inside.
“Sit anywhere you like.” The woman behind the counter had a kind, weathered face, and she spared us a smile as we entered before turning her attention back to the newspaper in front of her. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
I rubbed at my shoulder as we took our seats and Georgia gave me a curious look. A dull ache had been throbbing through the joint since I woke up, but there was no way I wouldacknowledge it out loud. I’d pull out my physio bands when I got home and do some work on it instead.
“Have you heard anything about your show yet?” I asked.
She shook her head, squaring the edge of her menu along the side of the table.
“Not yet. Lydia has a meeting this morning, so I should find out today. I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t get it.”
“You’ll get it,” I said with absolute confidence. She was stunning, talented, and interesting to be around. I found it hard to believe the casting directors wouldn’t see what an asset she’d be to the show.
“There are a lot of people trying for the role. I was lucky to get as far as I did. I just don’t want all this to have been for nothing.”
Because it was such a chore to spend time with me.
