Page 9 of You Were Mine

Now,that’shate.

The model leans to the side a bit and looks straight at me. His eyes are so blue they remind me of the sky on a cloudless day, and as cliché as I know it sounds, my knees start trembling like they’re about to give out and send me crashing to the floor.

The model snaps his fingers. “Idoknow you! Mark Delacroix,“ he says. “Yeah! I thought I recognized you the last time I was in here.”

Good news: Idoknow this guy.

Bad news: I still have no freaking idea who he is.

I consider trying to bluff like I think I recognize him. But how long could I reasonably manage a conversation like that? Not long. If he’s courteous, though, he probably won’t call me out on it.

“Brandon Matthews!” the model offers.

That does it.

“Right! Chemistry lab!” snapping my fingers and walking closer.

And physics and biology. Brandon and I took all our required science classes together and, bless him, he was sooo patient; not too good with math, so I had to crunch all the numbers, but he was always happy to copy pages out of his lab book for me. I was the absolute worst at remembering to bring my lab book to class with me.

“That is!” Brandon replies. “God, it’s been—what? Three years now?”

Now that I know who he is, it’s easier. “Yeah,” I say. “How did you end up here? Wasn’t your plan to go into med-school or nursing?”

Maybe that’s still his plan and this is how he’s paying for it. I know quite a few people who’ve taken less savory jobs than nude modeling to pay for college. I’m fortunate enough to be a graduate assistant, a position which waives most of my tuition and pays me a decent stipend. It isn’t much, but I manage. And it’s not the sort of position that people harass you about; likenudemodeling.

“It’s a long story,” Brandon says, giving me a self-depreciative smile. “You look great, by the way! Wow.”

I don’t really look any different - a couple wrinkles and possibly a white hair or two that Logan teases me mercilessly about. My acne has cleared up.

Now Brandon,helooksdifferent. At leastIthink so. I never saw him completely naked in any of our labs (what the hell kindof lab would that be?), and he wore mostly loose-fitting hoodies. So, it’s difficult to say. He might’ve always looked like an Adonis, and perhaps I just never picked up on it. But I’m fairly sure there’s at least more muscle definition. “Thanks,” I reply. “You, too.”

Brandon laughs. “I bet you didn’t quite imagine ever seeing this much of me, eh? To be honest, I never imagined you seeing this much of me either. Funny, huh?”

Logan clears his throat. I flush in embarrassment. “Ah…this is my roommate, Logan Smith,” I say.

“Right! The Halloween junkie,” Brandon replies. “I remember you talking about that. Good to meet you, man.”

“You, too,” Logan says, flashing a wicked glance my way.

When Brandon holds out his hand, Logan just stares at it like he’d rather face down a rabid raccoon. I have no idea why. But when Logan doesn’t shake his hand, Brandon only smiles.

“Yeah, Mark talked about you all the time,” Brandon says, laughing. “I feel like I almost know you myself!”

“Oh, I hope he only told you the good stuff,” Logan tries to joke, adding a bit of a laugh himself.

“Of course,” Brandon replies. “What kind of friend goes around talking smack about his roommate?”

Well, Logan for one.

I guess I never really advertised that, though. Assuming Logan and I were even having sex when I was in that class with Brandon; I don’tquiteremember when Logan and I started adding sex into the mix.

“Well, Idoknow where he sleeps at night,“ Logan says without missing a beat.

“Right on! Anyway, Mark, I don’t suppose you’d be up for coffee or something? We can catch up for old times’ sake,” Brandon said. “I just moved back to Bluehaven, and you’re the first person I’ve run into that I actually know.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” I reply. “When are you free?”

“This Friday?” Brandon suggests. “We could meet at the Tipsy Turtleat six.”

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