A month later 

Aubrey chickened out.

Time flew by without a solid plan or action. Instead of sending the messages he’d been writing in his head, he tortured himself by going through every post on Sabien’s page. Again. 

He went through all 145 posts, which didn’t surprise him. Not all models were active or diligent about updating their social media. Sabien probably created one to keep an image. Otherwise, he had a few masked selfies and candid behind-the-scenes photos. Aubrey gulped when his eyes landed on a mirror selfie. 

Sabien was sitting in a makeup chair, his phone lifted to cover the lower half of his face. He sprawled with his legs spread out, a small towel draped across his lap, exposing his thick muscular thighs and calves Aubrey wanted to sink his teeth into. 

This had to be the dreamy, fairy photoshoot from last Spring. A daisy flower crown sat atop Sabien’s head, his white-blond hair styled in small curls. Thin golden bands wrapped around his huge biceps matching the sandals adorning his feet. Nothing was safe about the photo. Aubrey suddenly wished he was kneeling between Sabien’s thighs and snaking his tongue around what was hidden beneath the towel. 

He scrubbed his face, wondering what came over him. Was he sick? Did he catch something from the last shoot? He had two gigs in the past three weeks. They paid extremely well, but it left Aubrey with too much time on his hands.

He preferred to stay booked and busy. House Genevieve was preparing for the next fall and winter line. Of course, preparations began now and the House went silent to avoid any leaks.

“Wesley,” Aubrey said as soon as his best friend answered the phone. “We’re going out tonight. You and me.” 

“Oh?” Wesley sounded slightly winded, and judging by the sounds in the background, he was most likely jogging on the treadmill at the gym. Wesley’s breath control was pure sorcery. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a boys’ night.” He said thoughtfully.

“Not my fault. You were busy.” Aubrey replied.

Wesley chuckled, “Sorry, Bree. I’ll make it up to you over some drinks. I’ll cover the entry fee, too.” 

It was Friday night, and the place to visit was The Vermillion in Downtown. The Vermillion had a fancy rooftop bar with a pool and everything. Aubrey wasn’t there to swim. He wanted to ogle some beach bodies while sipping on a daiquiri. The weekends were usually busy for the nightlife, but Aubrey didn’t mind hitting other places. The Godmother was another staple in Wonted, located on the Westside. Plenty of models and celebrities were sighted at The Godmother. Aubrey chewed on his bottom lip, pondering which to visit first until Wesley answered for him. 

“Let’s hit up The Vermillion since it’s the closest to us,” Wesley said. 

“Sure thing. I’ll start getting ready.” 

“I’m wrapping up my circuit. See you in thirty.” 

Wesley was frat-boy hot. A brunette with deep-set blue eyes, a dimpled, boyish smile, and muscles that bunched up and flexed at the slightest movement. He was built like a tank and oozed pure, masculine sensuality, even when dressed in the most delicate and Renaissance-inspired designs. Aubrey was not blind to Wesley’s looks, but he was immune to the power derived from them.

They’d been receiving stares since they arrived at The Vermillion. They chilled in one of the cabanas, lounging in their chaises. Most of the eyes were drawn to Wesley in his slutty man shorts, navy blue polo, and brown loafers. He didn’t blame anyone for checking Wesley out. His entire outfit warranted a lingering gaze or two.

“You look like a total douche,” Aubrey muttered. 

“Thanks. You look nice, too.” Wesley said, folding his ankle over the other. He folded his arm behind his head, grinning at the giggling group of ladies in the pool. They kept glancing Wesley’s way and whispering to each other. Aubrey rolled his eyes, glad for the retro shades hiding his annoyance. 

Aubrey wore them at night to counter his RBF (when in fact it did the opposite.) His hair was drawn back in a half updo, a few strands falling forward to frame his sharp face. He wore a thin, oversized black cardigan that swept to his knees when he stood, a cropped purple tank top that showed off the lean lines of his abs, and black harem pants slung low on his hips with sandals. He opted for simple, casual, and easy to shuck if he found a partner. Aubrey might have held a torch for Sabien all these years, but that didn’t stop Aubrey from scratching an itch now and then. 

Fantasizing about Sabien while touching himself gave Aubrey the sobering clarity to explore his needs in a more lucrative fashion. It’d been a month since their encounter. Aubrey was torn between guilt and disappointment. He should have at least apologized to Sabien for what happened. Things shouldn’t have gotten so... tense between them, and he wasn’t sure what triggered it. Aubrey was at a loss to this day. 

“What’s going on, Bree? Usually, you’d have something crafty to say about the girls checking me out.” Wesley piped. He sipped on his whiskey sour as Aubrey loudly slurped up his frozen strawberry and pomegranate daiquiri. 

Wesley arched an eyebrow. “Does it have anything to do with Sabien?” 

The drink almost came up his nose when Aubrey suddenly choked. His eyes watered, and he slammed the drink down on the little table between them. 

“Wes!” He squealed. 

Wesley snorted, holding up a hand. “I’m sorry, man. It’s just... he’s the only dude who’s ever gotten under your skin like this. I’m sure it has something to do with the party last month.” 

Aubrey pouted. So many things could fly over Wesley’s head except for this. He had this uncanny ability to clock Aubrey every time Sabien did or said something that got Aubrey all flustered. 

“It can’t be that obvious.” Aubrey mused. 

Wesley shrugged, “You’ve only ever shown genuine interest in one person and it’s him. Everyone else, they’re just... they’re just placeholders or something. You fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em.” 

Aubrey reached out and swatted Wesley’s shoulder. The big guy hooted.

“What the fuck, Wes. You want to say that any louder?”

“I’m not judging you, man, just saying how it is.” Wesley said, gingerly rubbing his shoulder “Since when did you start hitting like a man? Cheese on crackers.” 

“Since you forgot how to use your library voice.” Aubrey retorted. He folded his arms with a huff, checking his nails. “I don’t... ‘fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em.’ I just don’t promise them anything. I don’t want a relationship.” 

“Yeah. Uh-huh.” Wesley said with an indulgent nod. 

Aubrey narrowed his eyes. “You wanna add anything else to your colorful observation?”

“No, nothing. I don’t get why you can’t just talk to Sabien. He’s not that unapproachable. He’s a pretty cool guy. Not like that Zach. Zach’s kind of uh... err...” Wesley waved his hand about as if trying to find the right word. 

“A royal prick?” Aubrey said innocently, returning to his drink. 

Wesley squawked. “Didn’t you say something about using your library voice earlier?” 

Aubrey shrugged, “I’m not wrong.” Aubrey hadn’t met Zachary personally, but his reputation preceded him. Zachary was as mean as he was gorgeous. He’d made one too many makeup artists cry over “fucking his face up.” He had this general aura of menace clouding him. Aubrey wasn’t exactly afraid of Zachary. He’d rather not deal with a model whose attitude rivaled his own. Fortunately, they hadn’t crossed paths or worked together. 

Then Wesley let out a long, low whistle. “Well, speak of the devil.” He said.

Aubrey tugged down his shades. There sauntered the the royal prick himself, Zachary Abendroth in an all-white designer ensemble — white shirt, white shorts, and white tennis shoes. A hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone to his ear chatting away. 

His dark coiffed hair contrasted with his light gray eyes. The shadows passing over him made them stand out even more.

Across the lit-up pool, their eyes locked and a smirk tilted the corner of Zachary’s full lips. Gray eyes glinted like mercury and looked at Aubrey like he knew Aubrey. 

Aubrey’s blood ran cold when Zachary decided to stalk around the pool, ignoring the people trying to approach him. His piercing eyes kept Aubrey rooted to his spot, the smirk conjuring images of a grinning wolf. 

“Is he coming this way?” Wesley whispered loudly. 

Aubrey didn’t reply as he sat up higher, like a rabbit on alert, ready to run. 

“Shit, he really is coming this way.” Wesley jumped to his feet to greet Zachary first. 

Zachary’s face morphed from sharp, predatory focus to friendly and warm. On that alone, Aubrey decided he couldn’t trust a man who could shift moods that easily and mold into something else in less than two seconds. 

If that wasn’t a red flag. 

Aubrey hid behind his signature RBF when Wesley brought Zachary over. Bless Wesley for his sweet hospitality and manners. 

“Zachary, this is my best friend, Aubrey. He shoots at House regularly.” Wesley said with a warm smile. 

Aubrey gave the barest hint of a smile when Zachary pocketed his phone. He was as tall as Wesley and just as broad with a trim waist. Aubrey reluctantly got to his feet. He should at least try to be as friendly as his bestie. 

“Nice to meet you,” Aubrey said. He could have tried a little harder with the enthusiasm, but this was the best he could muster. A little above flat. Not so monotonous. 

“It’s a pleasure to actually meet the lovely photographer. I’ve heard so much about you.” Zachary said in a deep voice, holding out his hand. 

Aubrey was in the business that thrived on false idols and facades. He masked and shielded himself to survive in the industry and not get swept away by the brutal tide. If he faltered every time someone gave him a fake smile or ignored him, he wouldn’t have made it this far. A brutal and enticing game was constantly at play. How easy was it to get one’s heart broken by a beautiful face? Zachary was not unaware of the power he had with his face and charms. No matter how fake he was being, people still fell over at his feet. 

It was the same for Sabien. Same for them all. The beautiful people. Aubrey had the luxury of hiding behind the camera and observing them with something in between. The camera was his shield. His mask. 

His slender digits were engulfed in the firm and lingering handshake. Zachary didn’t let go, and before Aubrey could pull away, he brought Aubrey’s hand to his mocking mouth and pressed a lingering kiss across Aubrey’s knuckles.