I’m sorry, whoisshe?! And where did that come from?
His wide-eyed expression makes a feverish heat crest my cheeks, no doubt turning me a hideous shade of red.
“Should we head to the bathroom over there right now, and I’ll strip so you can get my ass just right? You artist types like to work with nude models, don’t you?”
I’m both salivating and parched at the prospect of seeing so much as one more inch of bare skin. His fitted pants are pushing me to the edge, forearms about to send me over. Which is probably why I can’t keep my mouth shut.
“I actually had mono the week my class in university worked with a nude model.”
“Kissing disease the week of the naked dude? Bad luck, Doodlebug. We should consider a makeup class.”
I lick my lips, heart shifting from a stilted, nervous thumping to a thunderous slam within my chest. Despite the bile threatening my esophagus and the flush in my cheeks, I say, “Ihavealways wanted to try it.”
And the burly man just smirks at me. Eyes so big and blue, I’m considering going for a long dip. Maybe I’ll drown myself in them.
“I’m Lucas.” He holds out the limp napkin, fingertips grazing mine with a symphony of fireworks as I snatch it away.
“Eira,” I say, drawing out theay, because I hate when people pronounce iteye-ruh.
His brows furrow, and he repeats my name back slowly. It happens all the time when you have an unusual name, but hearing it roll off a man’s tongue has never sent warmth through my entire body like this.
“Eira… Are you, by any chance—”
“Eira!” My best friend, Holly, suddenly bounces into view, shouting my name. Sidling up beside me, she pinches the fabric at my waist. “This dress is killer.”
“And it doesn’t even make my ass look flat.” I smooth a hand over my butt cheek, catching the slow drag of Lucas’s thick bottom lip between his teeth.
“That remains to be seen,” Lucas quips.
Holly rolls her eyes, slinging an arm around the mountain man of my dreams—the man I’m really hoping to see naked in the bathroom shortly. And presumably again later tonight.
“I see you met my pain-in-the-ass brother.”
Chapter two
Eira
Six Months Later
“That’s a penis inside a hot dog bun.”
“Sure is.” I grab my phone from Holly, shoving it in my coat pocket before any innocent souls in this crowded coffee shop become permanently scarred by the bizarro dick pic on my screen. “This is what dating is like now. Don’t you miss it?”
“I just…” She takes a slow sip of coffee with a pensive bunching of her eyebrows. “What possessed him to flop his sausage into a hot dog bun and take a photo?”
“Probably wanted to stand out from the countless normal dick pics women on this app receive.” I shrug, taking a deep breath of the coffee-scented air.
Holly and I have been regulars at Sipsters every Sunday morning since a roommate mix-up in our first year of university led to us becoming inseparable. Used to be that we came herefor breakfast wraps—the ultimate hangover food—and to recap whatever wild shit we did the night before. Now we lament adult life and she manages my online dating profiles, swiping left and right with the occasional pause to confirm whether I like mustaches (I do), or ask what my feelings are on facial piercings (take them or leave them).
“It definitely stands out.” Holly’s fingernails tap against her mug. “Let me see it again.”
With a laugh, I hand over the phone. “You’re sick.”
She curls up in her oversized armchair, and her fingers spread across the phone screen to zoom in, paying no mind to the patrons milling about behind her who could accidentally look over and get a real eye-full at ten a.m.
“Whoisthis guy, anyway?”
“That firefighter you swiped on. We were supposed to go for dinner last night, but I told him I had a migraine after he sent me that.”
