Cover Model (27 page)

“No, man. I just wore this for the ride over. I left it on so nobody would stare at me.”

I snort, “You look like a fuckin criminal and you think no one is going to stare?”

“Not in Hollywood,” he laughs.

“You’re right about that shit. Did anyone ask for an autograph thinkin you were Banksy or some shit?”

“No. But I should tell people I am. Or say I’m that Shepard Fairey guy. I think he lives around here somewhere.”

“You’re a goon, Hansen,” I snicker and nudge his arm with my elbow, but not too hard. His scars still bother him after seven years. He’s always putting lotion on to keep them from drying out. “Are your parents here?”

“Yeah. I told them I needed a chauffeur since I was going to be a big star now.”

“In your own mind, Hansen,” I joke and look around the room. I spot his parents at the craft services table pouring coffee for themselves. I wave, “Hey, Mr. and Mrs. H!”

They wave back and his mom says, “Hi, Connor!”

I’m about to go talk to them when the sound of clicking heels on concrete stops me.

“Hey, Connor!” Lex comes walking up, rockin the tight skirt and glasses, looking hot as fuckin hell.

“How did you talk him into this shit, Warmoth?” It’s good to see her, but I’m not gonna act like it.

“It was really
both
our ideas.” She smiles at Ryan. “I mentioned to Ryan that I was, um,
touched
by the interaction between you two. Since you told me
your
side of the story, I asked Ryan if he wouldn’t mind telling his.”

I’m blown the fuck away. “Are your parents okay with this, Rye?” They’re very protective of him.

He shrugs. “I’m twenty-five. They can suck it.”

I smirk, “Are you sure you’re up for this, bro?”

He nods, “I keep seeing that Caitlyn Jenner thing on TV and all I can think is that guy is a fucking weirdo. But you know what? I’m just like him. Bruce Jenner was a guy who got up every morning and saw a face in the mirror he didn’t want. How am I any different? People stare at me every time I walk out my front door. Same thing for Jenner. But he’s not afraid to show the world how weird he is. He, I mean
she
, is risking her life putting it out there. But she’s normalizing it. Maybe burn survivors need someone like me to put my face out in public with no apologies. If people see burn survivors all the time, they’ll get used to it. Ever since Jenner outed himself, and you got the balls to show your face at that Rom Com Con thing, I thought maybe it was time I grew a sack and did it too.” He puts his arm around me. “And what better way to get my message out there than by riding your coattails, C? I like the idea of having your ugly mug next to mine.”

“Why?”

“To make
me
look better, dumbass!”

I grin at him.

Lex smiles at me hopefully.

I want to fuckin cry.

I’m so proud of Ryan, I start to fuckin tear up in front of both of them.

“What do you think?” Lex asks like she’s asking
my
permission to do the shoot.

“Yeah.” I’m all choked up. “Let’s do it.”

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

ELECTRA

“Check that shit out,” Connor says appreciatively, admiring the finished cover of
Trending Magazine
while leaning his muscled tattooed forearms on the coffee shop table beside me. The upcoming issue featuring Connor and Ryan on the cover and my in-depth interview with both of them won’t hit the stands for another week, but I got an advanced copy from Vince today.

The cover line reads:
SCARS
. Below that in smaller type, the pull reads:
That Heal The Heart
.

We sit outside at a sidewalk cafe in Beverly Hills near Rodeo Drive, enjoying the end of summer weather while people in expensive clothes with expensive hair and expensive plastic surgery stroll by with expensive designer shopping bags on their arms. Every few minutes, a priceless sports car rumbles by. Business as usual in upscale 90210.

My arm presses against Connor’s. “You guys look great together. I can’t believe how well the photos turned out.”

“Ryan was right. I look ugly next to him,” Connor jokes.

“You look great, Connor. Look at that smile.”

In the photo, Connor is shirtless and pumped. His romance cover physique is as delicious as always, but this time, instead of having his tattooed arm around the wasp waist of a beautiful faceless woman, it’s thrown over Ryan’s shoulders. Ryan wears a T-shirt and jeans but nothing covering his face. His burn scars are impossible to miss. They were not touched up in Photoshop in any way. He insisted on it.

During the photo shoot, the saucy camaraderie between Connor and Ryan quickly took over the room. Those two busted each other’s balls like the lifelong friends that they are. Their energy was contagious. Everyone at the shoot was laughing at their jokes like they were at a comedy club. When Connor and Ryan get on a roll, they’re incredibly funny. Any self-consciousness Ryan may have had walking into the shoot disappeared entirely by the end. And all that relaxed fun energy made it into the photos. The shot Vince Pitts selected for the final image shows Ryan and Connor in the middle of laughter. Despite Ryan’s scars, the first thing you notice about the photo is how much fun he and Connor are having together. The cover couldn’t have come out any better.

“I can’t wait to show this to Rye,” Connor says softly, his voice raspy.

I squeeze his hand. “We can bring it over later.”

I’ve spent a lot of time at the Hansen house in the past two months getting to know the family’s story. In that time, Ryan’s burn scars have become almost completely normal to me. Ryan was right. You eventually get past the shock of seeing it. Connor helped with that. All he sees is his best friend. He truly doesn’t notice Ryan’s scars. You quickly realize there’s an intelligent, funny, charming human being underneath the disfiguring scars, a person with hopes and dreams and feelings like everybody else.

Connor skims his fingers across the magazine cover and smiles at me, his face a mixture of profound emotions. “It’s perfect, Lex. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for Ryan. I’ve never seen him so relaxed around so many strangers. He had a blast that day at the shoot.”

I never would’ve believed that Connor Hughes had a soft spot anywhere under all those hard muscles and sharp-edged tattoos and his smart mouth, but he does. He’s not an asshole. He’s a wonderful man with a huge heart. “Thanks to you,” I smile. “If you hadn’t introduced me to Ryan, all I would’ve had was a shallow exposé about a muscled manwhore.”

He chuckles. “How is that bad? You know women can never get enough of that shit.” He winks at me and swallows a big gulp of his iced coffee. “You especially.”

I smirk. “Me? You know I
hate
manwhores.” I elbow him in the bulging bicep.

“Uh huh. That’s why you spend so much time with me.”

He’s right. Connor and I have spent plenty of time together since our unexpected reunion at Rom Com Con. “Off the subject, but you know what I found out?”

“That you can’t stop thinking about me for more than half a second?”

“You wish,” I giggle. “But, no. Remember that guy Romeo Fabiano? The one helping us out at the convention?”

“Yeah. What about him?”

“I looked him up on Facebook and found out
he
went to North Valley too.”

“No shit?”

“Yep. He started in 2009, a year after we graduated.”

“Small world, huh?”

“
Soooo
THIS is the
little
bitch,” a strange voice chortles with dripping judgement.

I look up into the eyes of an attractive woman in a tight tailored navy business suit. Her straight ink black hair cascades over fine features, full lips, and tan skin. She holds a paper to-go cup in one hand and her iPhone in the other. Her nails are an expensive French manicure with a classy hint of glitter. I have no idea who she is. But she’s smirking at me like she knows me.

I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I don’t…”

Connor grunts. “Gloria.”

I mutter to him, “Who is she?”

Gloria cuts in, “I’m his agent.
And
his girlfriend. Is he fucking you too, sweetie?”

Girlfriend?
I glare at Connor, instantly furious. I should’ve known. I shake my head, stunned. I
really
should’ve known! Just because Connor is friends with Ryan doesn’t change the fact he screws lots of women. People don’t change. I am an idiot. And I have no one to blame but myself.

Gloria smiles victoriously. “He didn’t tell you about me, did he? Oh,
thaaat’s
right. He and I have a
Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell
policy. I suppose that applies to you too. Did he not tell you that?”

I shift my seat away from Connor so we’re no longer hip to hip. “What’s going on, Connor?”

Connor’s face is a dark mess. He stares at Gloria with rancid hatred.

“Well?” I press.

“She’s my agent. And…”

I wince, waiting for the knockout blow that will put me on the canvas.

Connor shifts forward, leaning his arms on the table again. “She’s
not
my girlfriend. She was
never
my girlfriend.”

“Oh,
really
?” she scoffs. “Who found you that apartment of yours? Who bought your dining room set? Who picked out your curtains?”

Connor smirks, “I
let
you do that shit because you’re a bossy bitch.”

“Damn right I am,” she chuckles. “And I’m also the bossy bitch who is
FUCKING—” she jabs her finger at him “—YOU.” She jabs again.

Connor shakes his head, disgusted. “Not so loud, Gloria. One of your
other
boyfriends might hear you.”

I stand up, irritated with both of them. “I think the two of you need to have a talk.
Without
me.” I pull out my chair for Gloria. “Here. Be my guest.” I turn to walk away.

“Wow, Connor,” she smiles at him and chuckles as she slips into my chair. “This one is a
pushover
. I thought you liked your sluts on the side with a little more attitude.”

I spin around and—
CRACK!!
—slap her across the jaw.

She tumbles out of the chair.

“I’m nobody’s
slut
,” I growl.

“Oh shit!” Connor gasps. “
That
happened!”

That
also felt really good.

“Help me up, Connor!” Gloria barks, her ass on the sidewalk cement and both red-soled Louboutins flailing above the seat of the chair like a helpless turtle. She grabs the chair back with one hand and waves at him with the other, completely unable to stand on her own.

I notice her nude shoes have stiletto heels that are wavy and actually quite cute. They’ve been all the rage in L.A. this summer. They also cost $1,000 and I could never afford them. “
Love
the shoes,” I smirk sarcastically.

“Connor!’ she growls.

Connor stands up, grabbing the magazine off the table. He smiles at me, “You know, I’ve been wanting to do that for five years. But I would never hit a woman. Doesn’t mean
you
can’t.” He winks at me.

I laugh.

Gloria screams. “I’m going to sue your ass off, you little bitch!”

I shrug. “Sue away. I don’t have any money anyway.”

Gloria screeches. “Don’t worry, you little
slut
. My lawyer—”

Connor cuts in, “Are you sure you want to call her a slut again? After she dropped you like that?”

Gloria growls at him and tries to stand up. But she can’t because her tailored skirt is so tight and her back is right up against the brick wall of the cafe. The woman sitting beside her stares down like Gloria is a rabid wolverine. Realizing no one is going to help her, Gloria kicks at the metal chair and it rattles loudly against the metal table. The other customers all stare, as do the expensively dressed shoppers walking by. “You bitch! The second I call my lawyer, he’ll—”

I roll my eyes. “You don’t even know my name. Let’s go, Connor.” I’m surprised I say it, but after slapping Gloria and her bitchy tirade that followed, I at least want to hear him out before jumping to conclusions. And yes, I’m gloating. There’s a certain satisfaction to walking away with Connor by my side when Gloria so obviously wants him.

“Don’t worry!” Gloria hollers as we walk down the wide sidewalk, “I know where to find you. Electra
Warmoth
.”

I almost stop.

“Ignore her,” Connor mutters, moving me along by the elbow. “She’s all talk.”

“It was nice knowing you, Connor!” she shouts. “Good luck finding another agent willing to put up with your bullshit!”

“Maybe you should talk to her?” I suggest, concerned. I don’t want to cause career trouble for Connor. In this town, a good agent can mean the difference between starving and thriving.

“Fuck her,” he grunts.

“You already did,” I quip sourly.

“Don’t remind me. I was a stupid confused kid when she found me. I’ve grown a lot since then. Let’s go. I don’t need Gloria fuckin Powers in my life anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He gives me a cocky grin. “I don’t need
her
.”

I search his eyes. Was he just implying he doesn’t need
her
but he needs
me
? I don’t know. I’m probably reading too much into it. Who am I kidding? I don’t
really
want Connor anyway.

Do I?

Chapter 17

ELECTRA

“You totally fuckin want me,” Connor mutters, nuzzling against me in the candlelit booth at ReaXion two weeks later.

“So did Gloria,” I grumble.

“So does every other woman in this restaurant.”

He’s right. Ever since we walked into the trendy restaurant on Melrose to get dinner, the women here have
all
been checking him out. In fact,
before
we walked in, they were checking him out too. There are lots of cute young things on Melrose shopping and bar hopping this time of night, and they couldn’t keep their eyes off Connor. I should be used to it by now, but I’m not. I glare at him, “Have I ever told you how cocky you are?”

“Once or twice,” he grins.

If his masculine scent wasn’t so intoxicating, and if his rugged beauty wasn’t so irresistible, I would have walked away from whatever this thing is we have going
weeks
ago. But I can’t resist him.