Everything Unexpected (11 page)

“Romantic, isn’t it?” Holly says.

I tell myself to stay quiet. This conversation needs to end and the boys need to mind their own business. Eddy already seems to have lost interest, but he’s the only one who doesn’t know about me and Shane yet. I can’t believe Holly’s been able to keep it quiet from him but she has.

“Have fun,” Bryan sneers, disapproval clearly showing in his expression before he sits back, turning his attention to the TV.

I follow Holly back into her bedroom and she closes the door. “Well that went terrible,” she says. “And did he just call it my
monthly
? What the hell was that? Ugh, and the date thing? I don’t know where that came from. It just came out. They surprised me being back here—” She stops, realizing she’s rambling. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes.

“It’s fine,” I answer. “No harm done.”

We sit side by side on the bed, and she takes one of my hands in hers. “Everything will be okay. I feel it in my gut.” She smiles.

Opening the shopping bag, she pulls out one of the water bottles and removes the cap. “Now,” she says, offering it to me, “drink up.”

“WHAT ARE YOU going to do?” Holly asks, still in disbelief that she was so, so wrong.

I look at all the sticks laid out on the bathroom floor. All eight of them. All silently screaming the same thing.

I told you so! I told you so!

I shake my head, not knowing how to answer.

“When does Shane get back?” she asks, another question I don’t have the answer to.

“He was supposed to be back a few days ago. But then he got an offer in New York. Swimsuit shoot or something,” I mumble. “A few days, I guess.”

She nods furiously, reminding me of a bobble head.

“Everything will be okay,” she says for the hundredth time. Funny how this time, those words have absolutely no weight to them. “What do you need? What can I do?”

I almost laugh. “I think it’s already been done,” I say, my hand sweeping over top all of the tests. I turn and face her, the situation threatening me with tears. “What do you think he’ll say?”

“I don’t know,” she answers, enveloping me in a hug.

After a minute, she releases me. “First things first. Let’s get you in with a doctor. Then…”

Her voice trails, saying nothing else. She doesn’t know what to else to say, just like me.

“Yeah. Then...”

I pick up the tests from the floor and shove them in my bag. I gather up all the empty boxes, looking to rid the tiny room of any evidence that my life has just been blown to pieces in a matter of seconds.

Results in just three easy minutes
.

There was nothing easy about those three minutes.

I lift my head to the mirror over the sink, finally looking at something other than those white sticks. I stare at my own eyes, trying so hard not to cry. In my head I know it’s way too early, but my eyes fall and linger around my stomach for a minute. Already I’m searching, seeking for any signs of change. Looking for proof of what all those tests already told me.

“THOSE WERE
HER
words?” I ask once more, thinking I may hear a different answer.

“Yes,” Bryan says once more, his answer frustratingly still the same. I hear him blow out a long breath, tired of repeating himself. “Dude, I told you already. Get over this. It’s fucking with your brain, and it’s a little embarrassing now.”

I ignore his last comment, even though I know there is some truth to it. The last two weeks in Australia and this week in New York have plagued me with feelings of…unfinished business. I did my best to forget about them, to submerge myself in work, spend longer hours at my photo sites and even longer hours editing. All in an effort to keep myself too busy to think about home. About her. How weird the night before I left for this trip felt between us.

At first, I felt relieved, grateful even, that we were both able to agree nothing has to change. It may have taken a few days, but Leah seemed cool about it all. Too cool. Ready to act like nothing had even happened. She didn’t come over looking for any reassurances. Instead, she took control of the situation and guided
me
. Like she was the one who had to come over to reassure
me
. I didn’t even have to say a word. She didn’t need me to.

We scratched an itch and now it’s gone
.

Those were her words.

So why am I so uneasy about all of this? Why do I feel like there were things left unsaid? And why are Bryan’s words feeling like a punch to the gut?

“A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have blinked at Leah going on a date. Now listen to yourself… Man up!” Bryan nearly yells.

“Who has a first date on Valentine’s day?” I argue, attempting to ignore the real reason this news is burning inside my stomach. Make it more about the timing of the date instead of the date itself.

“That’s what I said! Any single guy out there with half a brain knows that is the one night you stay in. Promises of true love and commitment in your face all night? It does something to a woman’s ovaries. Images of white dresses and flowers and rings. Thanks, but no thanks,” he says.

“Maybe Kendall, but Leah’s not like that,” I argue. I know she’s not.

“
All
chicks are like that,” he reiterates. “Look, all I know is she has a date and she and Holly both think it’s the most romantic thing since
The Notebook
. So like I said to you already a hundred times this week, you need to put that night in the rearview. She obviously has.”

I think about all the emails, texts and pictures I’ve been sending her over the last few weeks and they now leave a sour taste in my mouth. Trying so hard to make everything feel like it’s back to normal, but now I feel like the idiot who’s been trying
too
hard. Maybe Bryan’s right. That alone is a scary thought. Maybe I do need to get over whatever residual feelings I may have before it really starts to mess with my mind.

“You know what you need to do,” Bryan begins. “You need to get your dick wet. Fuck that memory out of your system.”

I roll my eyes.

“I’m serious!” he states. “Do you know how many guys would kill to be you right now? Beautiful models walking around in barely-there underwear? You’ve got a beautiful half-naked buffet in front of you and you’re walking around limp-dicked thinking about some one-night stand.”

“Hey,” I speak up. “Don’t talk about Leah like that.”

“You know what I mean,” he relents. “But someone needs to kick your ass back into reality. And what better reality to wake up in than under a gorgeous model.”

Noise from behind me redirects my attention. A few of the models have come out of wardrobe and are familiarizing themselves with the set that’s been arranged. It’s February but we are already prepping for a late summer campaign.

I turn back to my computer screen. “I need to go. Duty calls.”

Bryan tilts his head, trying to see past me. “Turn the screen a bit,” he says, looking to get a glimpse of the models in the background.

“I’ll be back in two days,” I say standing, lowering my computer screen, disconnecting our call.

“Just one look!” Bryan pleads. “Shane!” he yells once more before the sound of the program shutting down cuts him off.

I walk towards the set where my station is all set up with my equipment. Cal flew in yesterday to help me with this job since we are in a bit of a time crunch. The space the client rented was only available for one day so that didn’t leave us much time to mess around. Everything needs to get finished today so I can spend all day tomorrow editing the shots.

“All set?” I ask him as I approach.

He nods while setting up some degrees of brightness for the lights on another laptop. “Should be. The cameras are all set up over there.” He cocks his head towards another table. I look over and see all my lenses and camera bodies laid out.

“Good. We should get started. We only have a couple of hours.”

“More than enough time,” Cal tells me.

“Let’s hope.”

I walk over to the table with my cameras and choose a lens for the first set of test shots when pink panties enter my line of sight. I’m quickly reminded of the last time I saw pink silk and of the woman who wore them. I blink, trying to rid myself of that memory as quickly as it came.

“Shane?” a soft voice with an even softer accent speaks. I raise my eyes to the girl. Long, brown hair, deep brown eyes and an incredible tan that looks completely natural. I gather from the skin tone and accent she comes from a Brazilian or Colombian background. She’s thin like most models, her ribs and pelvic bone poking out just slightly. And, just like all models, she’s gorgeous.

“Hi.” I offer my hand. She smiles, shaking it softly. Her hand is soft but chilled. Most likely from only being dressed in underwear.

“I’m Natalia. One of the models.” She rolls her eyes, embarrassed. “Obviously.” She waves her hand over her body, quietly laughing. It sounds pleasant, just like her accent.

“I just wanted to come and introduce myself. I’ve been looking forward to working with you.” A small smile teases her lips. It makes me smile back. It might be the first I’ve had in weeks.

“That’s nice of you to say. I hope I can meet your expectations,” I say. Her eyes widen the smallest amount at my choice of words and it hits me how they might have sounded.

“I’m sure you will.” She smirks before walking away.

My eyes instinctively follow her as she walks back towards the set and the other girls. Her legs are long, shiny from whatever lotion the makeup artist used. Her ass is small but round. My eyes are still locked on it when she glances back over at me and catches me staring. She laughs a little before turning back.

I’m well aware of the signals she’s giving and the ones I seem to be reciprocating. My immediate impulse is to feel guilty, like I’m doing something wrong. Then I remember I have nothing to feel wrong or guilty about. That much was made clear when Bryan told me of Leah’s date plans. Why shouldn’t I enjoy the attention? Why should I not give it back? It feels refreshing, actually. Normal.

G
et your dick wet. Fuck that memory away.

Maybe that’s exactly what I need to put things back in perspective. Bryan’s right. Weeks ago I wouldn’t have even thought twice about Leah having a date. She’s never thought twice about me hooking up with a model. And if I’m trying so hard to get things to go back to normal like she already has, then this is exactly what I should be doing. What I need. What
we
need.

I grab my camera and walk over to set. Hair and makeup are putting finishing touches on the girls. I lock eyes with Natalia while her plump lips are getting another coat of gloss put on them.

Yes
. This is exactly what I need.

“You okay?” Cal asks, coming up beside me, his eyebrow raised.

I look at him, confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He narrows his eyes. “You sure that’s the one you want?”

I blink, confused by his question. Is he asking me if Natalia is the one I want? Compared to whom? I pull my head back a notch, wondering if Cal can read minds or something freaky like that.

He points down to the camera in my hand. “You’ve got the wide angle on,” he says. “Is that the one you want? Or should I grab the 85mm?”

I look down at the camera and stare at it for a moment. He’s right. I have the completely wrong lens on. I remove it from the camera and hand it over to him before he walks over to the table and fixes my mistake. This isn’t the first time that’s happened over the last two and half weeks. While in Australia, half a day’s shots were useless after I realized I had the camera on the wrong setting. That alone should have been an indicator of just how badly I need to get my head back on straight.

But all that’s changing now. I’m resolving myself to the fact that if Leah can do it, so can I.

Cal returns with the right lens and I quickly click it in place.

“You good?” he questions, once more.

“Yeah. I’m good,” I say with a new awareness. “Let’s get this started.”

MANY HOURS AND wardrobe changes later, Cal and I are hovering over my computer screen looking at today’s images. The shots are good. Really good.