The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) (32 page)

Wild-eyed and grinning, Huntley got a good
look at Denise and Fawn. Then saw his father’s face and his smile
fell. “I’m not sure, Mom.”

“And your friend. She’s also taking off her
clothes,” Rosalind said. “Perhaps you have some insight in that
area?”

Fawn was frozen in the middle of taking off
her underwear. She’d already pulled off the dress and bra, which
pushed her blond ponytail off to the side. Bent over with one knee
in the air, she looked like she was posing for a photo shoot. Like
Lucy, she watched her fiancé. Waiting.

“Must be part of the ceremony,” young Huntley
said, and went over to Denise to grab a towel. Then he stood there
and didn’t take off a stitch.

“Welcome!” Denise said. She handed towels to
Huntley’s parents and peeked outside the door. “Any more
coming?”

Now naked and glorious, Fawn stood up with
her back straight and said, “My mother can’t be here until a little
later. She’s with her new boyfriend. I wanted him here at the
wedding because she really likes him and I love her and that’s how
people act when they care about each other.” She met the Sterlings’
cold stares with a steely gaze of her own.

You go, girl,
Lucy thought. Standing
buck naked in front of your fiancé’s parents would take guts even
if they’d picked you out at the bride store and arranged the
marriage themselves—let alone when they hated you. Even if you were
six feet tall and gorgeous and posed in front of strangers for a
living.

My best friend, the warrior princess.

“So, it’s just us for now.” Denise closed the
door with a bang and turned back to the room with her hands
together. “As I was saying, obviously, I’m nude. I invite you to
join me. We get so many letters about this ceremony I can’t even
tell you. I know it seems strange. We are conditioned to be ashamed
of our bodies. I admit, even I used to feel uncomfortable when we
started this. But each and every day I get a letter from a former
guest of our spa telling me how meaningful it was, how helpful, and
I’m motivated to share this joy with you.”

“Like hell you will,” the elder Huntley
said.

“This was obviously her idea,” Rosalind said,
fingering the necklace at her throat. “Perhaps Huntley could
explain to her that marriage is a serious business, especially for
a man like him, and then we can all forget this ever happened.”

The room fell silent, most of them staring at
Huntley. He studied the floor. Fawn’s proud bearing was beginning
to waver; Lucy could see tears shining in her eyes. But her jaw was
hard and she didn’t make any move to cover herself up.

Lucy didn’t know what to do. If she took off
her own clothes she might make the situation more ridiculous—she
was one of Fawn’s friends, and they’d write her off as another
California nutjob. But if she ran over and covered Fawn with a
towel, it would undermine the bravery of her stance, imply she had
something to be ashamed of.

Suddenly, Miles said, “What the hell,” and
dropped his pants. He was wearing tight black boxer briefs; she
admired them and the ass underneath, got lost in the memories of
the feel of it under her hands. “Because marriage is a serious
business.” Then he kicked off his shoes, his jeans, pulled the
shirt and sweater over his head. He didn’t smirk or laugh with his
eyes, just stripped down as though he were doing something
important.

I love you
, Lucy thought, watching
him. And then,
No, I can’t.

“You’re right, Miles,” the younger Huntley
said, breaking out of his trance. He went over to Fawn, stood a few
inches away from her, not touching, and looked into her eyes.
“Forgive me?”

Fawn let him squirm for a long moment before
reaching out to unbutton his shirt. Slowly her fingers made their
way down his chest, loosening each button to his waist. “Tell
them,” she said.

He nodded but didn’t look away from her face.
While he wriggled out of his shirt, he said, “Mom, Dad, this was
all my idea. All of it. This place, this ceremony, this wedding,
this woman.” He kicked aside his shoes, pulled off his pants, then
his underwear. He was naked, his bare white bottom aimed at his
stunned parents. “I don’t regret any of it.”

“Jesus H,” his father said. “About time.”

“Give your trainer a bonus, dear,” Rosalind
said, smirking at his naked backside.

And then the two of them smiled at each other
and went out the door.

Leaving Lucy the only one in the Peace Yurt
with any clothes on.

“Isn’t that it?” Lucy asked wildly. “You got
the groom and his parents to face up to the love between him and
Fawn, so now we can all just go and maybe have something to
eat—”

“Lucy.” The warrior princess was staring at
her now with the Gaze of Command.

Her face burning, Lucy turned to the side and
took off her sweater. Then kicked off her shoes, her jeans, and
eventually, when nobody told her she didn’t have to, the rest of
her clothes. After all, the only ones who hadn’t already seen her
naked were Huntley and Denise, and they couldn’t care less.

Miles grabbed a towel and sat cross-legged on
the ground on the opposite side of the yurt. Never looking at her,
he put the towel over his lap and reached for one of Denise’s
bottles of oil.

Huntley and Fawn followed suit, forming a
loose circle, and Lucy had to do the same or she’d be the only one
standing up. Like she was It during a game of Strip Duck-Duck
Goose.

Denise began chanting something but Lucy was
lost in a daze.

First, there was the love thing. That was a
problem. But she would just have to admit she was human and thus
capable of infatuation and give herself time to get over it. Or see
it as the natural progression of a quick, valuable friendship. He
was a hot, sexy guy, but he was a human being first. She didn’t
have any trouble loving human beings. For instance: Fawn. She was a
human being. No problem there.

The second issue, however, was how her new
valuable friend (who was a human being) was totally ignoring her.
This same person who was eager to fight over her like a rutting ape
was now rubbing oils over his well-muscled calves, and thighs, and
now upper inner thighs, without even glancing her way.

Instead he smiled at Denise, who was droning
on about some flaky spiritual garbage.

Those breasts couldn’t be real. And who
trimmed their pubic hair like that? Sure, young girls posting
videos on the Internet. Not post-menopausal therapists trying to
get commitment-minded adults to discuss their deepest fears.

And my God, did she have to sit cross-legged?
It was like Georgia O’Keefe down there.

Lucy flopped down on her stomach and buried
her face in her arms. They could bring her to water but they
couldn’t make her look.

At Denise’s nagging, Huntley began speaking
about his fear of being worthless. “I’ve never had to prove
myself,” he said softly. “I can’t imagine what Fawn sees in me. Not
the money or, you know, my looks. The real me. What if there isn’t
anything there?”

“You dork,” Miles said. “How many pretty
billionaires do you see me hanging around with?”

“Maybe I’m the only one you could find.”

Miles snorted. “I wish.”

“If we could keep the tone more peaceful,”
Denise said.

Fawn scooted closer to Huntley and put a hand
on his bare knee. “I’m exactly the same way. That’s what I feel
when I’m with you—that sameness. Nobody’s ever seemed to understand
that.”

Lucy lifted her head. “Hey.”

“You’re different. You knew me before. Plus,
you’re like a sister. Of course you love me. But would we be
friends if we met today? Would you like just the grown-up me, if
that’s all you had to go by? I don’t know.”

“All right. I would, but I understand what
you’re saying.” As long as she wasn’t telling her she was too poor
and ugly to understand the real Fawn.

Huntley moved closer to Fawn. “I love
you.”

“I love you,” Fawn said, starting to cry.

Did they really have to do this in a group?
Naked?

Lucy looked up at Miles. He stared back
expressionlessly. She was suddenly aware of her bare ass jutting up
while she splayed face down on the floor. Yet his gaze kept
slipping away to Denise.

This was the guy who’d just lectured her
about monogamy?

She decided to sit up. He’d been eager enough
to get her naked before; he’d kissed and fondled her breasts with
hungry enthusiasm. She’d give him a little reminder.

Arching a little as though her back had been
cramped on the floor, Lucy stretched out, nipples aiming at Miles’s
eyes, and wiggled her legs. That would have ripple effects for
sure.

Miles did glance at her, but instead of
smiling, or staring, or fainting dead away from lust, he frowned
and turned back to Denise.

Well, hell.

Huntley leaned in to kiss Fawn, but Denise
stopped him with a warning
eh-eh-eh
sound.

“Sometimes touch is the avoidance of true
intimacy,” she said.

Huntley withdrew slightly, smiling. “You’re
so incredible,” he told Fawn. “I can’t wait to be married to
you.”

“I can’t wait to be married to
you
,”
she replied, gazing into his eyes.

Lucy crossed her arms over her breasts. Sat
cross-legged. Arched her back again.

He never even peeked.

“Can’t we give them some privacy?” Lucy asked
finally.

Miles glanced at her, but only for a second.
“You want us to leave, guys?”

“My mom should be here soon,” Fawn said. “It
might be awkward if it’s only us.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want it to be
awkward
,” Lucy said.

Denise frowned at her. “Sarcasm is another
layer that distorts and disguises. Try to set it aside as you would
your garments.”

Just as Lucy opened her mouth to tell her she
was a phony busybody, she noticed the smile on Miles’s face. While
he stared at Denise’s breasts.

That’s it.
Fawn was obviously doing
fine with her new soulmate and didn’t need a cynical maid of honor
ruining the love-in. “Sorry, guys, but I’m not feeling well.”

She grabbed her clothes and put them on as
fast as she could without looking back. In thirty seconds she was
outside.

She lingered on the threshold of the Peace
Yurt for a few seconds. Okay, minutes.

When it was clear Miles wasn’t going to
follow her, she marched back to her cabin.

* * *

Miles waited ten minutes, each one tougher
than the last.

“This is ridiculous,” he said. “She’ll just
think I’m an asshole.”

Fawn and Huntley gazed into each other’s
eyes, obeying the rule not to touch each other only in the most
literal sense. There couldn’t have been a millimeter of air between
their bodies.

“Fawn knows best,” Huntley said, sparing him
a glance. “If she said you should cool it, you should cool it.”

“All right, so I won’t try to beat anyone
else up. But I’m not going to sit back while she goes after other
guys.”

Denise, who had been frowning and smiling
simultaneously during this conversation, finally broke in. “Perhaps
we should return to the relationships between those present in the
circle. Discussing souls that are not present is not usually
productive.”

Now Miles knew how his older kids must feel,
being forced to talk about their feelings with somebody who was
being paid to care. Or pretend to.

Keeping the towel around his waist, he
lumbered to his feet. “Fuck it. I’m going after her.”

“Perhaps that’s for the best,” Denise
said.

“No!” Fawn cried. “Just give her another few
minutes. Enough to realize you’re not chasing her.”

“I am chasing her.”

“But she can’t know that or she’ll freak
out,” Fawn said. “You need to play hard to get.”

“Like Alex?” He got his clothes on, glaring
right back at Denise. “He practically proposed after their first
conversation. I wouldn’t even call it a date, though I’m sure he
does. Probably already planning their first anniversary.”

Denise dropped the fake smile.
“
Please
. This is not about you.”

“Then why the hell was I invited?” He stalked
over to the door, pausing to turn back and give Huntley an
apologetic shrug before he went outside.

Fawn might know a lot about Lucy’s family
history, but she couldn’t know how terrified she was of being alone
in the world. Only a fellow near-orphan could relate to that. Miles
could see it in her eyes. Mom dies, and the other isn’t quite
enough. No other blood relations to depend on, only the mercies of
the few big-hearted people in your social circle.

Then you get older and you’re not supposed to
care anymore. You’re supposed to be tough and independent, immune,
invincible. If you want a family, just make one.

But families you
make
are the most
fragile of all. Just pieces of paper. She needed to see how it was
the emotional connection that mattered, not their legal status. The
relationship itself.

I can’t play games
. He could barely
stop his feet from running the rest of the way to her cabin.
I
need to be honest with her.

So he jogged through the woods to her cabin,
knocked on the door with the most polite level of force he could
manage.

Lucy appeared in the cabin doorway. Her hair
was pulled back by a black headband, exaggerating her wide forehead
and pointy chin, the green of her eyes, the pearls in her earlobes.
Her lips were slightly parted, pink and shiny. Her T-shirt was
low-cut and hugged her curves. She was barefoot.

Miles was taken aback for a moment by the
sight of her. Just looking at her reduced his IQ by fifty
points.

Easy, buddy. No more games. Be a man.