I am so screwed.
Kacey
Send me behind the scenes photos! And photos if you go hiking!
Kacey
How’s it going? Are you having fun?
Jessie
Yeah, it’s really cool. Only one bed at the Airbnb, though. But don’t worry, my virtue is safe. I built a pillow wall.
Kacey
Your virtue ship sailed long ago... but I’m happy you’re living out your one bed at the inn fantasy dreams. You know those always end with them boning, right?
Jessie
Actually, they don’t all end that way which I find disappointing.
It’s just past noon at the photoshoot. Trey has had his picture taken with different trucks and off-road vehicles all morning. We’re in the high desert, the landscape a mix of red rocks, pine trees, and mountains. Even at this elevation, it’s hot with the Arizona sun beating down on us.
He walks toward me, dressed in his black cowboy hat, a red, long-sleeved button-down shirt with all his sponsors embroidered on it, creased jeans, and cowboy boots. It’s so not fair that he doesn’t even have to try to be sexy, he just is.
I catch myself clenching my thighs together because there is nothing on earth hotter than a cowboy.
“Hey, they want you to ride with me for a little bit. They’re going to take some video footage. You okay with that?”
“Yeah, sure, sounds fun. But only if I get to drive when we’re done.” I would’ve worn something nicer than my jean shorts and white tank if I’d known I’d end up in a video, but they must not mind.
“Oh, yeah. They’ll let you. We typically spend a couple of hours screwing around with a few of the dune buggies afterwards. Greg said they’ve got a branded shirt you can change into.” Trey gestures to Greg, who’s walking our way with a shirt in his hand.
“Perfect. I’m in, let’s go.”
Greg hands me the shirt. “Let me know where to mail the check.”
Check?What is he talking about?
He chuckles at my obvious confusion. “You didn’t think we’d ask you to model and not pay you? The base rate is $100 per hour, if that’s okay.”
He’s serious. He’s going to pay me to sit in a truck next to Trey. I do that for free all the time. I wonder how long we’ll shoot for. This could be money Daryl will never know about. I can save it or buy myself something.
“Thank you. That’s really nice of you. I’ll get you my address before we go.”
Trey walks me to a blacked out nineties Bronco that has been modified into an open cab. He opens the passenger door for me before getting in and starting the truck.
Trey turns to me, tilts his cowboy hat up, then lowers his sunglasses so I can see his blue eyes. “You might want to buckle up; this will be a little wild.” He gives me a wink and throws the vehicle into drive as I double-check my seatbelt. After last night, this is exactly what I need—an adrenaline rush.
“Well, Hawkins, think you can handle the dune buggy?” Trey asks several hours later as we step around one of the off-roadvehicles that looks like some kind of transformer. Roll cage included—sweet.
“Send it, Jessie! You can’t hurt it!” Greg hollers from his own vehicle.
I climb into the driver’s seat and buckle in. Greg gave me a blue helmet with a reflective visor. I put it on and flip up the visor. “The real question is, can it handle me?”
“I’m starting to wonder if anything could handle you,” Trey says, voice low.
I slap my visor down and lean into his space. “Maybe you could if you’re lucky.”
