“I haven’t? Oh shit, I’m sorry.” My face felt like a furnace. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m tired.”
“No problem. You had a long journey, and it’s late. I’ll bring your things up and leave you to get some sleep.”
“Thanks.” I twirled my finger around my knee. “Umm, Xander?”
“Yes?”
“Where’s the bathroom?” I looked around, but it didn’t look like there was one upstairs.
“There are two en suites downstairs.”
“En suites?”
“Yes. You can use the one in the studio.”
Forget a fan. I needed to stick my head in a freezer or stand under an ice-cold shower. “When you’re not in there?”
It was Xander’s turn to blush. “Yeah.” He nudged my thigh, and I almost died and went to heaven. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
I followed him downstairs like a little lost puppy.
“This is my room.” He pointed to a door opposite the bottom of the stairs. “And the studio.” He opened the door to the left.
There wasn’t a bed in the room. He’d installed a white photographer’s backdrop. It covered one long wall and extended to cover the floor. There was some basic workout equipment, including hand weights, a yoga mat, and a resistance band. There was a camera and light setup, which looked professional. I’d seen the room a dozen times on his streams, but I’d thought it was larger. It had to have been a trick of the camera.
“This is where you do your YouTube videos?” I asked in what I hoped was an innocent tone.
“Yes. Have you seen any of them?”
“One or two.” That was true. I wasn’t interested in his YouTube videos.
“The bathroom is in here.” He opened another door.
His spare bathroom was stunning. It had a white tiled floor with blue spots. Three walls were decorated in white brick tiles, while the fourth had dark-blue brick tiles to match the spots on the floor. There was a swanky toilet, a rectangular sink, and gorgeous oak shelves. The shower was waterfall-style and probably big enough to fit a rhino or two very horny guys.
“Will it do?”
I gaped at Xander. “Yes! It’s perfect.”
“Great. I’ll take your things upstairs.”
“Leave the make-up case. I’ll bring it in here.”
“No problem. Help yourself to a drink, snack, or whatever you need.” Xander smiled. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
“You bet.”
If I had to rate the evening on a scale of one to ten, where one wasn’t awkward at all and ten was awkward as fuck, I’d have gone with an eleven. Or maybe a twelve. I had no clue how I’d survive staying with him for a month, especially knowing he would be exercising while naked beneath me. My face flushed. I was having Freudian slips in my thoughts. I needed help.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I could cope with living with Xander. I was there to get signed, not drool over a hot, fit, sexy guy.
Modelling.
Not sex.
Make that a thirteen on a scale of one to ten.
CHAPTERSIX
