Page 8 of Overtime
She follows me as I move to take the kayaks off the racks Ben has them stored on.
“We can place a towel or a ball strategically. No one’s asking for full frontal.”
“Still no.”
“Again, a different photographer could step in for yours. I’m sure Violet has contacts.”
If I was going to do what she’s asking, I definitely wouldn’t want someone else. She’d be the only one I’d consider, but I’m not about to let her have that information. Because that’s playing with fire and with her I always get burned.
“Do you not understand the word no?”
“Not when it can help raise money for a good cause. I like to exhaust all avenues before I give up.”
“It would be off-brand for me.”
“To raise money?”
“To have photos done like that.”
“Ah, still too wholesome. I get it.”
“You’re not going to bait me.”
“You sure about that?” she says in a tone I remember. One that says she thinks she owns me and can get me to do anything she wants.
I pull the last kayak off its rack and set it down on the floor. I turn to her and lean down to meet her eyes with my own.
“Absolutely positive.”
She blinks and her eyes flicker with the challenge, drifting over my face and then down my body.
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Challenge me. I’m trying to play nice with you, Colton. It’s not really in my wheelhouse, but I’m trying for Ben and Violet.”
“I’m well aware playing nice isn’t something you’re capable of,” I say it before I have time to think better of it. This is what she does. Pushes my buttons and gets a reaction out of me that no one else can.
“If this is about how we left things… I told you then and I’ll say it as many times as I can. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
No. I know she never meant to hurt me. It didn’t change the facts. But I’m not about to give her any ammunition. So instead, I laugh, shaking my head, and smile at her.
“This isn’t about that. It’s about the fact that it’s not on-brand for me and it’s just not something I’m interested in doing. I’ll happily donate money, but I’m not stripping down.”
“Fine. I think you should get a new brand. This Midwestern boy-next-door thing is played out.”
“It got me where I am.” I grit my teeth.
“True. I’m sure all the beer-belching, corn-chip-eating, aging former high school football stars would be horrified to see you naked. Worried their wives might finally have something to turn them on for the first time in years. Have them sneaking off to the laundry room and letting a rough cycle and thoughts of you take them to the only orgasm they’ve had this year.”
“Well, they can’t all be as perfect as you, can they?”
Her eyes light with anger, and I can see her grind her teeth, but she doesn’t respond. A moment later something else flickers across her face, something I can’t quite read. I want to ask her what it is. But instead, she stands straighter and looks me in the eye. There’s hurt there, and more painted across her face.
I said I wouldn’t take the bait, and I not only took it, but I turned around and stuck the knife in. Now I’m the asshole. I start to apologize but she charges on, acting like nothing’s wrong.
“Fine. If you change your mind. Let me know. Looks like you’ve got this covered. I’m going to get the stuff out of the shed.” She turns on her heel and hurries out the door.
