Wrong thingtosay.
Brody had only found out today about the photo shoot I was doing tomorrow, and he wasn’t happy about it. I also knew he wasn’t happy I’d done that shoot in L.A.; he’d told me in an intimate moment in his bed last night that he thought I wasn’t coming back afterward like I’d said I would. I’d told him, half-teasing, that if I didn’t come back it would’ve been his fault, since he told me he was done with me. But that didn’t go over so well. I’d also explained that this was only a one-day shoot, here in town. My agent had set it up when she found out I was coming back to Vancouver; it was kind of a last-minute thing because one of the models they’d booked had gotten sick, and I wasn’t even all that psyched to be doing it. But that didn’t go over so well,either.
And I knew why. I knew Brody felt threatened. That he thought it would take me away from him again; that as soon as I got back to modeling, I’d disappear from his life, stop taking his calls, and we’d be right back where we were. Which wasnowhere.
I wanted to reassure him that wasn’t the case, but I was uncomfortably aware that we still needed to have a serious talk, about serious things—which might change his opinion on whether he wanted me to disappear from his life. And I’d done the math: I had to get up for the shoot in less than eight hours. I wanted to spend every one of those hours with Brody, and I didn’t want to waste them fighting. Granted, we’d need to sleep. I couldn’t show up at a shoot, even one I was less than excited to do, on no sleep. But other than sleep, we were flirting, having fun, and having sex tonight. I refused to doanythingelse.
After the shoot, when Brody saw that I was still here, we’d have time for theothertalk.
“You know,” I said brightly, trying to keep the mood upbeat, “usually when we’re around a campfire,wesing.”
“No, you sing. I croak like a bull frog. We’re notdoingthat.”
“Okay… then how about a campfire game? Do you know anygames?”
“I dunno.ISpy?”
I laughed. “Inthedark?”
“TruthorDare?”
“Right… I can only imagine what kind of dare you’d come up with. I’d be naked in seconds, nodoubt.”
“Scared?”
I kind of was; it wascold. “No.”
He smiled a slow, wicked smile. “So you go first, then. You want truthordare?”
“I thought you werekidding.”
“I was kidding. Now I’m not. Truthordare?”
“Okay. Fine.” If he wasn’t afraid, I wasn’t backing down. And to prove it, I’d go all in. “I picktruth.”
“You sure about that, princess? You’ve gotta be one hundred percent honest here, or I’m pretty sure you’re in violation of the rules of the game. Bad things mighthappen.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want bad things to happen. Ask me. Whatever you want to know.” I said it, and I kind of meant it, but I was a little nervous about what hemightask.
How serious did he intend to turn thislittlegame?
“Do you really like marshmallows in your hotchocolate?”
Okay. Not soserious,then.
“No.”
“I knew it. Why do you always putthemin?”
“I don’t. You put them in, and I just never wanted to hurt yourfeelings.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Who doesn’t like marshmallows in their hotchocolate?”
“I don’t. Toosugary.”
“Is that a modeling thing, or you really don’tlikethem?”
“Don’t like them. Never have. If you ask me, the only thing that belongs in hot chocolate, besides chocolate, isbooze.”
