Page 16 of Lights, Camera, Love

He looked horrified, and I snorted.

“What?” he asked.

“You! You just look so offended.”

“Baseball? You picked baseball?” he teased.

“Football is boring.”

Now he laughed even harder.

“I feel like I’m missing something big here,” I confessed.

“Just promise me you’ll try to watch a game when you get home. Our team kicks ass and it can be really fun when you get into it.”

I rolled my eyes. He was definitely aweperson. “I’ll try. Any team in particular? Is one more entertaining than the rest?”

“The Wolverines. Then you can watch me play.” He smirked.

Oh.Oh. “You’re a football player?” I winced. I’d called his sport boring.

He laughed. “I am indeed. So now, to fix this bridge you’ve torched to the ground in a blaze of glory, you have to watch a game.”

“Deal. But then you should watch something to torture yourself as well. New York Fashion Week should do.”

His face morphed into one of confusion. “Wh-why?”

“Because I like it, and I doubt you do.” Before he could argue, I shrugged and said, “Fair’s fair. But if not, I guess I won’t have to watch you chasing an oblong ball down a field.”

“Fine, deal. But you have to guide me through it,” Zander said. “You’ll be explaining what’s happening, who is who, and why it’s interesting.”

“Deal.”

We chatted about our respective work, and he said it actually intrigued him when I mentioned all that went into running a fashion show. Not that I’d ever been featured in NYFW, but I devoured the blogs and videos of them like a fiend. It was work related, so I figured it wasn’t all bad.

Zander was sweet and charming, built like a tank, with broad shoulders and tattoos snaking down his arms and chest, and I felt comfortable with him, but more like I felt with one of Es’s siblings than anything more.

“I think my time is up,” Zander said, nodding toward two figures approaching from the courtyard.

Oliver and Diego were walking side by side, headed right toward us. The former was fair skinned, with walnut-brown hair, and light eyes. The latter, tanned with dark chocolate hair, and dark eyes. Both were broad across the chest with muscles to make a girl swoon.

“Hey, guys!” Zander called as he did a chin jerk. He turned toward me. “It’s been fun, Sophie.”

Zander, Oliver, and Diego did that customary bro handshake thing where they slapped hands and brought it in for a half-hug. It was like watching a nature show, observing men interacting in their natural habitat.

“Hey, Sophie,” Oliver said, moving closer to the patio set I was still sitting on.

“Hi. What’s going on here?” I asked, pointing between him and Diego.

“Kayla and Aaron slipped away before I chatted with her, and we’ve already met with everyone else. So you get a two-for-one deal,” Oliver said with a smirk.

“You encouraged Aaron,” Diego said, shooting a glare at the Brit.

“Look, you’re not wrong, but he barely paid attention to Gia during their chat. He kept looking over at Kayla while I was chatting with her, and it was distracting, not to mention rude as hell. Better they get it out of their systems now, so maybe they can focus on why we’re actually here later.”

He wasn’t wrong. We were here to connect with someone, and sex was a great way to do that. A relationship solely built on that was fun while it lasted, but it rarely endured long enough to lead to actual conversation and intimacy.

“It’s fine. I’m sure I can handle both of you,” I said, putting the innuendo together a second too late. Shrugging my shoulders, I smirked; I certainly could handle both of them, but I doubted that was what they had in mind. Who walks up to a woman and propositions a three-way in the middle of the afternoon? Dream men, that’s who.

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